There was once a man who dreaded the night.
He feared what he believed to be the insidious power of the dark. A force that lurked, whispered, and conspired to consume the light.
He made a solemn vow to cast it out, to allow the light to eternally dominate his world.
Day in, day out, he was consumed by his obsession.
In his delusion, he crafted a grand mirror, a monolith aimed at the light, reflecting it and banishing the shadows from his world.
It was through this heretical prism that this man brought wrath upon his people.
The mirror blazed, not with the light’s gentle warmth, but a terrible, fiery wrath.
Days stretched into scorching trials of survival, homes turned to cinders, fields into lifeless wastelands, and the people into shadowy specters bearing the mark of their broken spirits.
Ironic, isn’t it? The man who sought light only to birth an age of darkness and despair.
One who has done this walks among you.
Vision.
His pursuit mirrors that of the man in our story, doesn’t it?
A desire to dispel the shadows, but his is not a mirror reflecting light.
It’s an ideological beacon aimed at the minds of the many, urging them to forsake their sight for what he claims is enlightenment.
He seeks an everlasting illumination, a prism of rainbow light seen only through self-inflicted blindness.
But just as the man who sought to usurp the cycle of day and night, Vision fails to understand the balance.
The Third Eye, eyes hollowed out in the name of seeing, are left with the scars of their surrender to his philosophy.
Just like those under the blaze of the man-made sun, they suffer, their spirits broken by the promise of light, a promise that delivers nothing but shadows.
Much like the grand mirror, Vision’s prism reflects not enlightenment but agony, creating a darkness far deeper than the one he claims to banish.
Beware the shepherd who demands your sight for vision, for he forgets the value of eyes.
Only in darkness will we find the strength to see the light, and only in light will find the courage to face the dark.
I’ve seen the fruits of your enlightenment, Vision.
Hollow sockets instead of eyes, smiles replaced with grimaces of remembered pain. Stumbling in the dark, clutching at a vision of light that’s forever out of reach.
They were promised a prism of divine light, an awakening.
Instead, they find themselves in unending night, the searing pain of their loss the only constant.
I must thank you Vision, for now I see.
Truly see.
We need the night just as the day.
We need pain just as joy.
It is this balance, this harmony of light and dark, that allows us to truly live.
To truly see.
With my eyes, not the hollow promise of a Third Eye.
Your sun has set, Vision.
I followed your path, now you follow mine.
Don’t fight it.
Embrace it.
The light.
The darkness.
Embrace the pain.
Embrace the Grimskull.