So Below.

That’s the phrase, right?

We spend our lives walking the streets of Arcadia, clawing through the dirt, chasing purpose, drowning in pain. And we think it all ends here—when the body breaks, when the eyes close, when the bell tolls for the last time.

But it doesn’t.

What we do above, follows us below. Who we are in life, becomes who we are in death. As above… so below.

And that brings me to you, Tombstone.

You, the so-called immortal. The man who swears the grave doesn’t want him, who wears death like a second skin. You think you’ve outsmarted the reaper. That just because you’ve walked through fire and come back whole, you’re untouched.

But no one escapes the below. Not even you.

You’ve spent your life ferrying others across the river, dragging souls into the dirt, but when your time comes—and it will—you’ll have to take that journey alone. And when you do, when your feet touch that scorched earth, who will you be?

What version of yourself are you bringing with you?

Will you be the monster who once broke me for the sins of my father? The man who dragged me through hell because you couldn’t let go of your anger, your grief, your need for vengeance? Or will you be something more?

Because I remember what you did. Every word. Every blow. Every mental war you waged on me over a man who made his choice. My father—he made his bed, and he’s no doubt rotting in the flames of what came after. You probably saw him there. You escorted him.

But what about you, Tombstone?

You carry that same rage, that same venom.

Because when your journey is done—when the lights go out and the mask falls—you’ll be judged just like everyone else. And what you are above…

Will be what you are below.

So I ask you this, Tombstone— Who do you want to be?

Do you want to be like him? Like Gravedigger? A shadow in a land of shadows, clawing through eternal rot because you refused to be more? Because you couldn’t see beyond your own pain?

Or do you want to fight for something better?

Do you want to walk with El Dragón Caído—a man of honor, of legend, of spirit—and show Arcadia, and whatever lies beyond, that you were more than your scars?

Because you still have time.

You still have a choice.

You can make peace with your demons. You can climb out of the pit you helped dig. You can be a better man in Arcadia, and maybe—just maybe—when your time comes… you won’t walk through fire.

Maybe you’ll walk through light.

Maybe there will be peace for you below.

But only if you earn it above.

So make your choice, Tombstone.

Keep being the man who buries everyone, and you’ll end up buried beside them.

As above… so below.