#lego studio

These like-faced savages, these clarion-worn mules, a vast violent ocean at your command. Mired in masses of chitinous steel, casting these hordes from proto-molds and flock minds, the Great Beings inspire nothing. Such demons of deathless noise must be different. Unusual. Singular. Crafted without caste, wrought of the finest ore, slender and queer.

"Guide us," They harmonize, "Give us resonance, so that by our resonance we may exist."

To clean it all, the land must have example of what is to be considered clean.

Sight without eye. Wrath without sound. Echoing, and eternal, like the sounds of which you comprise.

Fear is a weed, snaking in the dark. It vines within the mind, corrupting it. It germinates within tribes... Dividing them. Such greed and ardent denial will seduce any destruction, even your own. The Great Beings were blind to future consequence... Casting their debts on those to come. But what if now, the twin Queens sought revenge? Such brutal thorns... Piercing the gushing ulcers of waste and industry. A new green, sown upon sanguine ground. Fertilized with the blood and bone of its defilers.

When fledgling civilization pounded flint on flint, you watched the sparks. Others merely danced. Such haunted custodians will need drumbeats of their own to drown out the throb of elemental blood.

Your siren songs to harmonize the long scream. Anthem-storms to elevate their butchery. But you are owed your struggle, as the Bahrag are owed entertainment. From such sleek gargoyles, this hive-born masquerade, how to honor you who volunteered willingly, knowing the truth? Whose little act of courage - twinkled like a petty stone, before the primal hunger's great indifference? They stare up at you, with eyes cut from shards of fulgurite.

"Guide us," They cry. "Give us fury, so that by our fury we may prove our existence!" Until the tree tops rang with laughter. So be it. You shall encase them in maelstroms most torrential.

That the purity of your stigmatization might shard the gale-force winds itself.

To clean it all, the land must have example of what is to be considered clean.

Unbroken, and uncompromising, as the winds upon which you soar.