“Imagine a massive storm that overtakes a cityscape, flying through and laying down a torrent of rain, wind, and lightning.”
“It’s a tempest.”
“A hurricane.”
“The storm must think itself absolutely unstoppable, a natural disaster of epic proportions that threatens to crash through everything in its path and tear the city asunder.”
“Sure, some buildings may be immune to its wind, some may refuse to be carried away by its floods. But surely, nothing can stop its most destructive ability, right?”
“Its lightning.”
“But standing in its wake is the one thing that can not only stop the lightning, it can absorb it, contain it.”
“A single lightning rod sitting atop of a building. Wind cannot move it, rain cannot rust it, and the storm? It can’t break it.”
“The rod was made to take the abuse, to quell storms left and right.”
“And not even this tempest could make it kneel.”
“Luke, OSW is nothing more than a city for you to eclipse, isn’t it? The people of its locker rooms are nothing more than buildings to bow to your every whim, blown away by your force, struck down by the thunder of your blows.”
“And you sit back expecting everyone to look up in awe at your power. From the beginning you’ve run roughshod through OSW, tearing through buildings left and right simply because you could. Nothing would be safe from the tornado of your discontent.”
“Zero’s fortified body may resist your rain, but the wind will weaken it, your lightning will fracture it.”
“And Pyre is nothing more than a fire waiting to be extinguished by your torrential downpour.”
“If they can’t stop you, then what can?”
“The answer is simple, Luke. The only one who could ever truly stand in your way, more than Edward, more than Simon, is me.”
“I am the lightning rod sitting in the middle of OSW’s crumbling cityscape, the very thing that was created to withstand everything you are and could ever be.”
“Because the truth of the matter is, Luke, I have withstood storms beyond your comprehension. The likes of the Black Skull order were unable to tear me from my spot in the middle of this city.”
“The Terrors could not make me rust away no matter how hard they rained upon my skin.”
“Even the likes of Death itself stares upon me in fear because he knows anything he throws at me will either slip right off or be quelled as it strikes me.”
“I am the lightning rod, and you’re nothing more than a pathetic tropical breeze blowing through my domain. The downpour will not phase me, your lightning will not harm me.”
“And in the end? Your time will come to an end. You will move overhead, leaving destruction in your wake.”
“But amidst the rubble I’ll still stand.”
“The storm quelled by my presence.”
“The sun shining down upon my face as I stand victorious.”
“I have walked this path before.”
“And I shall walk it once more.”