We all have that little voice inside of our heads that manipulate our actions, twist our very thoughts until we’re a fraction of the person we’re meant to be.
Once a holy warrior pure and just, who exemplified the greatest teachings of the lord suddenly turned dark and broken.
The whisperings of Yahweh twisting and morphing his soul into a vengeful predator, wrecking havoc on all would be sinners in the name of rolling out the red carpet for the lord’s second coming.
He poisoned the unjust, froze the wicked, tortured the blind and haunted the soul of the only person who truly cared for him.
All the while that sweet voice uttered toxic nothings inside his mind that drove him further from the truth, engulfing the true whisper that begged him to see the light.
This holy warrior ignored the consequences, watched as the anti-christ was born from his own actions, as the sweet voice began to fade and the true whisper began to scream.
He stood true to his false reason, refusing to believe he’d been led astray by his lord until he was forced to face how much of a patsy he had become.
The greatest manipulations aren’t those you never see coming but those you feel from a mile away and cannot do a thing to stop it.
And Impaler, you walked willingly into my web and there’s nothing you can ever do to escape.
You see, as much as I have to destroy OSW to repair the world’s broken fate, I cannot directly be involved in it’s decimation. Too many variables, too many fates that could be destroyed so I must follow their rules and stay my hand.
But where there are rules Legion, there are always loopholes and sweetie, you’re my first.
You see, no matter who has tried to destroy OSW, they’ve always failed. They tried death and decay, venom and the end of days, the fall of gods and death itself. They felled figure heads, cut down pillars and ripped apart buildings brick by brick but they forgot the integral part of why it always comes back.
They missed the fucking heart.
And when you strike true, when the full force of Night City reigns down upon the Slaughterhouse and darkness fills the halls so viscous and dangerous that death himself runs in fear, I won’t simply have delivered a chink to the armor.
It’ll be a mortal wound that this amoral monster will never heal.
I hear you already Impaler, screaming that you will never do my bidding but ask Lux if he ever had a choice in filling the bowls.
Because you might be Legion boy but I am infinite. I am entropy itself and before our eyes ever met, I had already won.
So go on boy, beat me, take your insignificant little victory because you are but my first weapon and will not be my last.
There are no gods to stop me, no pillars to hold me down as the heart of OSW finally begins to fade away
As thanks to you Legion,
The show is finally going to end.