“Have you ever been in a prison riot?”
“It comes at you fast and without warning. A moment of calm quickly erupting into a storm of flying fists and battered bodies as chaos spills forth into the halls.”
“These prisoners, those bound in chains? They tore one another limb from limb, a cacophony of brutality ringing off the cement walls.”
“The guards didn’t run into that mess headfirst, either.”
“As blood poured from torn skin and loose teeth clattered onto the floor the warden and his men didn’t lift a fucking finger.”
“No, they simply sat back, watched… And they laughed.”
“That deranged chuckle etched into my brain as I asked them, pleaded to know, why aren’t we doing anything to help?”
“And do you want to know what he said?”
“He looked to me, and without a hint of humanity told me ‘When the trash takes itself out, all you gotta do next is clean up the mess.'”
“The man I am now would have questioned him more, pushed for reason. But I simply sat back, watched, and grimaced as these men fought one another like caged animals.”
“Gangs against gangs.”
“The warden’s problems taking care of themselves before my very eyes.”
“Who do you think you are in this war? Narcissa, Redgrave, Ezekiel? When that cage door closes behind the last of us and the match begins, just who do you think you are?”
“Because I can tell you who you aren’t.”
“You aren’t the warden that oversees the prison, you aren’t the guards that barge in and clean up the blood left behind. No, you and every last Preservationist who put boots on the ground are something so terrible, so disgusting, that the real warden wouldn’t even touch you.”
“You’re prisoners in the asylum we call Arcadia.”
“Just like me, just like the rest of the Seekers.”
“Argue, fret, and fight all you want but the truth remains. War Games is a riot that Ares set in motion to tie up his loose ends. An absolute blood bath where the winner doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, in the wake of the carnage and broken bodies, the only man who holds in power is the man with the keys to the door.”
“As the warden said. When the trash is all too happy to take itself out, why do anything more than clean up the mess left behind?”
“I know there’s no way to avoid this fight, I know that when the bell rings the riot begins.”
“Through every bruise and laceration I’m going to do what the warden was too afraid to do.”
“I’m bringing Law to this storm, establishing order where there was none.”
“Because when that door is finally unlatched and Ares comes in to clean up the mess, he’ll meet what he feels most.”
“A prisoner who doesn’t fear him. A prisoner who can still fight.”
“No one is above the Law, Ares. Not Redgrave, not Narcissa, not even you.”
“And I am the Law.”