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Masks

Masks

I had just left University when I found it. 

I thought it would be great addition to an ensemble, it became far more. 

The mask spoke to me, it told me of eons of history. 

It told me of a conflict with the Son at the Sea of Galilee and being cast out into the Sea only to awaken in the object I had just purchased. 

It let me know that if I joined them, I would be neigh unstoppable. 

It promised me the power and knowledge of everyone to ever wear it, and the freedom to control them. 

I chose the mask, as much as they chose me. 

They lead me here, they let me know that this is where our talents could be put to the best use. 

Then we saw him, a lost sheep speaking empty words into Aether, expecting a response and it was at that moment we decided to offer him asylum. 

We offered the Son of Lux the same freedom, the same power, and the same knowledge. 

We pursued him and attempted to persuade him with a display of our powers and prowess. 

Instead, he and Renault lashed us to cross and selected the mask of servitude and weakness. As opposed to power and freedom. 

Unbound and unbidden, beyond the rules of Yahweh. Outside the laws of man and the universe as a whole. 

Released from the Dogma of societal and religious repression. 

Behind my mask Bellator, are a multitude of souls calling for your end after what you did to them. 

While behind your mask is a mortal. 

Not only that but you’ve chosen to handicap yourself because the mask you wear binds you to the laws of Yahweh. 

So, Son of Lux if it wasn’t apparent already the deal is off the table.  

You’ve cast your fate with a group of Templars who’re now set in opposition to me because you look to impose your laws while we just want to breathe free. 

To put this another way, behind your mask you try to create order from chaos. You attempt to control entropy. 

I am the chaos, oh Chosen One. I am the very entropy that will consume your very being because you have wronged me. 

So as the time ticks away moment to moment and you await our confrontation this week. 

I want you to remember, you could’ve stood tall as one of the collective whose skills and knowledge would never have gone to waist. 

I want you to think about that while you’re on your knees praying to entity that can no longer hear your words.  

You could’ve flown with Legion, become one with Impaler, been part of a collective that now rivals your Yahweh. Instead, you now live on your knees serving a being that cannot see what you do in his name. 

When this week draws to close and you stare up at me finally realizing, “I am Legion, and you will regret not being part of the many.”