Sometimes, you need a little taste of Hell to appreciate the Earth.

Things have been rough in the household lately. Bickering, questioning of loyalty, people failing to complete their chores… Not long ago we seemed like the perfect family. We were all on the same page, when we put our minds and hands to something, we achieved it. Now, everything comes with complications and obstacles. I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t break my heart a little watching us grow apart.

But I know things could be so much worse. I know what we have, and I know we are blessed, for I have seen beyond these four walls, to the streets outside and the bloodthirsty rabble who roam them. By comparison, we are living in the garden of Eden. Our idiosyncrasies and failings are forgivable. We have our fights, but the outside world has its war.

I look to my brothers and sisters, and none have taken it upon themselves to use unnatural power to cloud my mind and suppress my memories, feeding my ears with falsehoods in minor key. I have not been beaten down with my entire identity stolen from me, a golden muzzle placed upon my maw and turned into someone else’s ‘princess’ when all I long for is to roam free and devour.

People see us Preservationists as monsters, but we have simply kept to ourselves as the aggressors have encroached, have destabilised, have assaulted. They defiled our most sacred of churches, an explosion that killed our kin and left our Patriarch dead to the world. They have turned the common man against us for their own means, and now the brick and mortar that surrounds us is no longer just shelter from the elements and prying eyes, it is the ramparts that weather a siege. I have worked too fucking hard to keep this family together and to keep this roof above our heads to let anyone ruin it.

The savage world wants to swallow the house, to make us like everyone else. Be careful what the fuck you wish for, because I am sick of waiting out the storm. I am walking out of safety, through that front door with a bludgeon in hand and murder in mind, my brother Nox beside me. Just as we were the two who defeated Cade when everyone else took their shots and missed, we will continue to be the backbone of the Preservationists and the protectors of Arcadia from those who would force the outside inwards.

Not the muzzled dog nor it’s master, not the manipulator nor the enthralled, not any pig, assassin, basement-dwelling script kiddie or cosplaying nerd can change a goddamn thing, because we don’t even need Grimskull or Drewitt, for we are enough. We have always been enough. All it takes is a single dose of chemical warfare and you shall bleed from every orifice, clutching your collapsing throat and feeling your heart rapidly accelerate… Until it stops. And then? We go back inside and embrace our family, peace purchased with warring blood.