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Eve of Destruction

Eve of Destruction

For as long as anyone can remember, our world has been on the eve of destruction.

Chaos reigns, evil running rampant while the good are suffocated and weakened because they won’t bend the knee to a tyrant who rules through fear.

A villain who has quashed every rebellion with but a whisper, merrily wandering down his path of oppression.

Yet what once was smooth and sleek has become rocky and near impassable as the winds of change begin to form.

A world tired of the faulty status quo, ready to rebel for a better tomorrow and as Olympia erupts into slaughter. an explosion of purest hope will spark the beginning.

But if this bomb of valiance and justice looks to ignite the flames of hope, the correct components must be in order.

The simple officer seeking to use the justice of law to adhesive the cracks in the system instead finding himself linked to the corrosive madness of the artist that slowly strips away every ounce of his good nature. Though unlike Toluene and Nitric Acid, these two would rather tear the other apart then ever become a cohesive compound.

The corrosive spark of sulfuric acid that gives the explosion that dangerous snap of destruction and the right amount of fire. Burned Man is this close to being that spark Arcadia needs if he truly lets himself unleash that rage and pain upon the right people. But I fear he still holds back in the shadow of the past and the right push won’t make him explode but burn out entirely.

The protective coating of steel that cases the explosive and protects it and others from it’s volatile nature may seem like several heroes who wish to throw blankets of protection around the innocent but the protection of steel is meant to be temporary, casing the compound until the moment it needs to be free onto the world and these would be protectors would rather suffocate her until she snaps and becomes the very thing they protected her from.

And then there’s the fuse, the thin rope that ties everything together. Just like the man who would be King who has reigned upon high with an iron grip and has dragged everyone he encounters into his web of curiosity. Yet while the fuse is meant to burnt down to a crisp, Doom would rather his reign be eternal in the status quo then truly change the world for the better.

All these combustible elements, nineteen warriors destined to tear Olympus asunder yet not one of them would willingly light the flame. They focus on their own greed, tremble in their own fear as Lambs is simply a moment for them alone.

So just like when he fell, I guess it has to be me.

Because I might just be an outclassed kid way over his head, a Nestor in a sea of Erauthalions. Yet my hands are clean, my soul is pure and my hope shines brighter then the sun itself.

A boy shall enter the slaughter and a man shall become the Lamb who survived the Slaughter

With a single spark that ignites the Revolution.

Destructo Boy