There are many ways to judge the evil festering inside a mans soul. Instruments that can detect anything from the tiniest speck of darkness to those drenched in absolute malice. Instruments that Burning Justice use to protect the very balance of the universe and determine which level of Tartarus the forces of darkness deserve to fester within.
My father is fond of the scales, the balance used to judge those lost and confused. Those who have simply lost their way are evaluated by the balance they have brought into this world. Your Roderick Pyms, Your Drewitts, your Felix Foleys. Those who can be redeemed in the eyes of purest Justice.
However there are those who the scales have no benefit. Those who you could place a million credits and a sliver of their soul would always weigh more. The true malevolent, despicable beings that deserve, nay, need destruction. Simple scales for these demons walking inside human skin will never be enough. Not when the screams of their victims echo out so loud.
That is when the Horn of Vengeance begins to echo out through Arcadia.
An ear piercing sound that reverberates throughout the very mind of every living soul, a chilling tone that can bring even the purest hero to their knees but for those judged, something echoes back. The screams of every single one of their victims, every single soul that has been desecrated and changed for the worse by their actions.
Any who echo back deserve punishment, deserve a reckoning that even Hades himself would shudder at the very thought but the question is which sound eclipses and drowns out the other.
And Harvey your sins scream the loudest I’ve ever heard.
Killers like you are a dime a dozen, men who mutilate and devastate the innocent that surrounds you. Most have killed more then you, have sliced and diced for far sicker and depraved reasons but your ghosts drown them all out. Because out of all the depraved sociopaths that walk the streets of Arcadia, you are the only one who kills without a reason.
Some kill because it is their nature, some for depraved pleasure, some for some twisted purpose, but make all the Dioramas you want. Every single person you have killed is simply because you could. And because you ripped apart their souls without meaning, you’ve condemned everyone of your victims to an echo of limbo, forever trapped inches away from salvation.
Only able to scream an endless silent cacophony of terror.
The good Doctor’s screams are fading with Felix’s redemption, Gemini’s poison is still softer then the Horn but the screams of meaningless scenes Harvey, they drown out Vengeance itself.
Because though I cannot give them salvation, I shall grant them the slightest moment of peace. For as long as the Horn sounds, no evil shall escape our sight. And as you take your Final Breath, know I am just the Judge and Jury.
For when you fall into their purgatory, it will be their eternal Vengeance you deserve.