They say all men yearn for power and control.
That’s not true.
Some men yearn for power and control. It consumes them. Changes the very fabric of their being. They are not anyone if they don’t have power. They use any means to get it and they use even worse means to keep it. Some men get control through their position. Some get it through the manipulation of others.
Scissors, as Felix Foley, controlled people with his strings like we were all his marionette pawns. He had his strings snipped but found a way to keep that control even without the strings, because he’d laid a foundation early on, and that foundation came to bear fruit.
Doom controls people through technology and intellect, by overbearing them with his mind. It’s worked for many people he’s found himself opposed by so far. There are few here in Arcadia who can lay claim to having bested him.
And Tombstone controls people through his job description alone. Through being the Ferryman, he has bestowed himself with an aura of power, and people have been scared of him because they see him as the bringer of death. He is not the bringer of death. He’s nothing but the messenger, couriering the already dead to their resting place. But he has used his influence to make people believe he is something more.
That’s the crux of it. They all want to be something more. They all want that crown atop their head. They all want to reach that apex. The problem is, there is only one throne here in Arcadia, and none of them can hope to sit upon it.
The throne is built from bones and dust and blood. The throne is surrounded with guts and gore.
It’s the throne of death.
Scissors can’t sit upon it because he is merely the puller of strings. Doom can’t sit upon it because he’s merely a scientist with severe mental delusions. They have thrown aside their partnership for nothing. Tombstone can’t sit upon it because he only does death’s bidding. He has thrown away the responsibility of his position for nothing.
To sit upon the throne of death, you must first conquer death. None of them have that ability. None of them have that power.
I do.
I have that power. I have conquered death. I control my own fate.
I don’t want the crown. I don’t want to sit upon the throne. That power that men yearn for means nothing to me. I only wish to travel the levels of Arcadia and mind my own business. I am being pulled towards the throne against my will, but I am mere days from making contact with it.
The flesh. The offal. The dreaded throne of death.
And when I sit upon it, King of Death – only then will Scissors, Doom and Tombstone realise that they have been chasing a dream the whole time. For nobody looking for the power this throne gives you is worthy of it. Who would fucking want this burden?
But I am already burdened. So fucking crown me already.
I am your King.