They say every place’s got its dark side, but Arcadia?
This bitch’s got demons in every fucking corner.
It’s a place where dreams are shattered, innocence is a joke we tell the kiddies, and the monsters? They ain’t hiding under your bed—they’re wearing your best friend’s face, whispering sweet lies into your ear, sitting on thrones made from the broken.
It’s a world that feasts on pain, where surviving means turning into the thing you fear most. It’s where the weak get eaten, and the strong?
They become something else entirely.
I look around, and all I see are more fucking monsters.
First, there’s the chemist—Nox. Every potion he cooks up is a one-way ticket to hades. He’s not just poisoning bodies; he’s corrupting souls, turning folks into walking nightmares.
Then there’s Jasper Redgrave, my so-called best friend. The sick bastard who painted with blood, called himself an Artist while he butchered lives like they were nothing.
And finally, we’ve got Narcissa Balenciaga. The Queen Bitch of Arcadia. The puppeteer. The cunt who sits on top of it all, cackling while we tear each other apart. She’s got the Baron, the Title, and she thinks that makes her untouchable.
Like she’s some fucking goddess.
Together, they are the infection in this city, a cancer that spreads through the streets, poisoning everything it touches. They think they’ve got it all sorted, that they’re untouchable.
Nox, hiding behind his beakers and chemicals.
Jasper, shrouded in shadows and blood.
And Narcissa, perched on her throne, thinking her power makes her invincible.
But here’s the fucking truth.
I’ve been to hades and back.
I’ve walked through the flames they’ve set. I’ve endured the pain they feast on, and I’ve come out the other side.
Nox, you think your poisons can break me? You’re wrong, motherfucker. I’ve faced my demons, and I’ve kicked their asses. Your potions might turn others into monsters, but all they do to me is remind me of the hell I’ve already survived.
Jasper, you sick fuck, you think you can destroy me? You think your blade can rip out my heart?
Newsflash, asshole: I’ve got no heart left for you to break.
You used me, you manipulated me, and you think that makes you powerful?
Nah, it just makes you a pathetic prick.
And Narcissa. Oh, Narcy. You think your Baron makes you safe? You think your Title gives you power?
You’re nothing but a queen of ashes, sitting on a pile of rubble. You rule over jack shit, and your time is running out.
You see, Arcadia is a city of survivors, and I am the ultimate survivor.
I’ve seen the worst this city has to offer, and I’ve beaten it.
You three think you’re untouchable, but you’re just the latest in a long line of monsters I’ve had to put down.
Your time is up. Because when you face me in that ring, you’re not facing a man.
You’re facing the embodiment of everything you’ve tried to destroy.
I am the pain, the rage, the defiance of Arcadia.
And I will not be fucking broken.
Trust me.