There are many barren lands in Arcadia. Some have been barren as long as humankind can cast back it’s mind. Maybe since the dawn of time itself, some would say.
Some became barren through some kind of action, or inaction, of the residents. Levels that were once lush and vibrant now nothin’ but dust and sand. Where fields of wheat once stood, only death thrives now.
I’ve passed through enough of these places to be able to draw my own conclusions. I’ve scouted deep into the hearts of these levels. Lived and scavenged with any locals who remain friendly – or at least whatever classes as friendly these days. And I can tell you with absolute certainty that there ain’t a single one of those didn’t fall for the same reason. Some in totality, and some in part, I do admit, but all of them at least in some small way.
It’s always a god damn saviour complex.
I’ve seen it happen time and time again – a community is doing it’s best to provide for itself and keep its people in comfort and relative safety, workin’ together as a group, but there is always one motherfucker swingin’ his dick around like a damn baseball bat and trying to prove he’s got bigger balls than everyone else in the level. Some of these assholes have figured out subtlety, but most of them ain’t, and take the image more literally, takin’ it upon themselves to level the playin’ field with a literal baseball bat, or a gun, or any number of weapons you might find around Arcadia.
You can see those pricks comin’ a mile away, and sometimes you can nip them in the bud before it gets too bad. But the worst? The most dangerous pricks are those who dress it up like everyone needs them. Like some kind of god damn superhero who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Let me tell you – there ain’t no such thing as a fuckin’ hero in Arcadia – there are those that survive, and there are those that don’t. All a hero is, is a survivor who wants to make sure other people aren’t.
I’ve seen Destructo Boy before. Both figuratively, and literally. He’s a boy tryin’ to be a man, who claims to want to save people. He don’t. All he wants is to make sure people know his name. He wants to be top of the food chain so that when shit goes south – as it often does in such tryin’ times – he’s the one soaked in other people’s blood, rather than being the one feeding the red river.
Destructo Boy might think he can tell me a thing or two about what he sees as his superhero arc. But he’s just another asshole with a saviour complex thinkin’ he knows the answer to “fix” Arcadia. He don’t know shit. He might have seen a few things, but ain’t nobody seen the things I’ve seen.
And after I’m done – Destructo Boy might not see ’em no more.