♫ Oh life is bigger
It’s bigger than you, and you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no I’ve said too much, I set it up ♫
Most of the souls that I see touched by la canción de la muerte travel into the beyond peacefully. Their time has come, their song has been played.
They are ready.
But every now and then, I witness a soul brought into the embrace of the death song that still has something to say. One that dies harbouring a great secret. Life seems all the more tragic, ese, when the song of death is cued to play too early.
Life is bigger than any one person. Mi madre knew that much, they all did. But there are few things in this life that would drive a man to take the life of another.
To snuff out a soul’s song, mid-chord. Call it religion, or call it ideologies. The will to take a life only possesses one when their credo becomes more important than the value of humanity itself.
That is the mindset of Zeus himself. And you, Lionel Troy, share that same mentality.
♫ I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try ♫
When one soul holds onto a tale that would challenge your entire ideology but takes that secret to their grave with them, their act of selfish pride sees them ushered to the Ferryman’s boat before they are truly ready.
I can hear your soul’s sigh of relief, Lionel Troy. That whatever story Colt Ramsey was destined to reveal about you, looks to have died along with him.
He had the prime opportunity to tear down everything you have built, but choked when it mattered most. Literally. While Colt Ramsey hears the song of death played out, just as the enemies of Zeus and Narcissa do, your song still trumpets triumphantly.
You haven’t lost your religion yet.
But that’s the thing about secrets. They never seem to go away, the truth always finds a way out in the end.
You may not have lost your religion yet, but you will. Your ideologies can only hide you for so long, amigo.
♫ Consider this
Consider this, the scoop of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought you to your knees. ♫
A song continues to play, Troy, Arcadia demands it. They want to know what Colt Ramsey knew.
But eventually that music will cease, and your congregation will sit in uncomfortable silence as they wallow in your greed.
When that time comes, and the people turn on you, as they will, I will be waiting. My fingers strumming the song.
The same song you set up Colt Ramsey to play. The song of Death.
But when it plays for you, nobody will be listening.
For they will know your secret.
You’re losing your religion, Lionel Troy… Even if you can’t see that yet.