Dear ones,
I stand atop this stage on this day with a heart of stone conviction. I am no poet, I am no busker, and I may not move the heart of the sky, yet fire burns not within the heavens, but in the soul of our peoples.
Battle gongs tear apart the streets of our home and the carnage is no longer a stranger to my senses. Yet I rage in fight after fight, carrying the name of my father, and his father before him, to drive away the avarice of mankind, the veils of folly these war machines have brought upon us.
Yet even if we know our swords are no match for gunfire, it is still our peace to keep, despite despite. And as we fall, we shall not kneel to the idols of greed.
This is the end of my line, but it is only the start of yours. And although there is no angel to save us from this furnace, I will surely meet the Lord with a smile upon my face.
Farewell, gentlemen.
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All will be revealed in time.
All will be revealed in time.