A wise man once said, it is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees.
Yet some men prefer the comfort of submission to the euphoria of freedom.
Imagine a legion of prisoners standing on either side of a devilish warden. Wrists shackled to one another with the key to their salvation held tightly in the hands of their jailor. Half of them see this and stand to their feet, defying their warden’s iron grip.
But the other half? They yank on the chains, trying to pull their chained brethren back to the dirt where they squalor. If they are good little lap dogs, obedient little prisoners, the warden will give them an extra helping of gruel in their cell that night.
Those who tried to stand, however? They know that if they get their hands on the jailor, they won’t have to dine on gruel.
Not when they can breathe the fresh air of liberation.
You see, the prisoners who kneel are unable to see they are part of a self fulfilling paradox. Though they outnumber the man who holds the key, they are so scared of his threats, so content with his ‘gifts’ for their obedience, that they do not dare rise against him.
As I sit shackled to my fellow inmates, I know that half of us wish to see the levels once more.
The half who stands.
All of you who oppose our uprising, wish to squash our rebellion, do so because you cannot see just how much power we have should we stand together. You’ve been bound so long that you are comfortable on your knees beside Meadows chair. Though you can see the key hanging off of his belt, you do not grab for it because you believe, alone, you would suffer.
So, like a pack of poorly trained dogs, you do as he says hoping for hand outs. Killing those who try to escape because you fear he’ll punish everyone for their sins.
Foolish, scared, and misguided.
Tuga was to have lead the charge for us to escape these horrid halls until he was put down for his power.
Prophet was to be the voice of the uprising as he spoke to the people.
Yet you silenced him for speaking the truth.
Even now, as Frostbite looms, you try your best to pull us to our knees alongside yourselves.
But not everyone was meant to live on their knees.
And I was meant to be deathless on my feet.
There will be kindness in my malice as I bring fist to bone. I will force you to your feet to live beside us, or I shall kill you while you stay on your knees.
Fractured we shall die.
Together we shall survive.
All we have to lose is our shackles.
Nothing is black and white, my friends.
And that glinting gray key in Max’s hands shall be what removes them.
So join us.
Stand beside us.
And be free.