We find our young hero kneeling in the ashes of his smoldering home, desperately grasping for his father’s charred hand, causing it to disintegrate and scatter in the wind. That same wind lifts the tears from the boy’s cheeks and carries the boy’ screams through the remains of the ravaged village, over the bloodied bodies of his family and friends. Those screams, the cries of innocence shattered, dreams crushed, identity torn away. That day, heartbroken but resolute, our hero vows to seek out evil anywhere it may hide and to destroy it.
Cold and alone, he travels to a neighboring village. They take him in, treat him as their own. There, he learns and trains. He develops strength, speed, and ferocity. He holds anger and passion, but lacks wisdom and discernment. Heartstrong and headstrong, he presses on until his skill surpasses that of his master. And when the invaders come, he rises up to lead an army.
No longer a child, our hero and his men charges headlong into enemy forces though they are outnumbered ten-to-one. But the village has trained their men well, and each warrior fights with the strength of ten men. And our hero is the bravest of them all. He moves like a man possessed, spinning and splashing, anticipating the enemy’s every move. How courageous he is, how fearless, how gallant. Through the roars, blood, smoke, and clanging, our hero emerges victorious.
The village celebrates with a feast in his honor. To commemorate his valiance, they dub him, the Righteous Warrior, prophesying that he will wield Justice in his hands and leave Peace and Prosperity in his wake.
The next day, our hero begins his Righteous campaign. With a band of brothers in arms, he goes out to destroy the enemies where they lay. They traverse the mountains and the plains tirelessly until they reach the City. Oh, the magnificent City, that bastion of evil, that malignant sore upon the earth. Cursed by God and man, the ulcer cowers behind sky high walls, spewing forth gold-adorned wretchedness from the bowels of Hell. All night, the City revels for they have nothing to fear.
The Righteous Army strikes then, shooting down the watchers, blasting through the walls. They set fire to the dwellings and ransack the mercantile streets. They strike down the messengers and advance upon the castle where the drunken soldiers scramble for their weapons. Our Righteous Warrior searches the castle until he finds the dastardly emperor and brings down Justice for every one of his villagers slaughtered.
From then on, our Righteous hero rules the empire with Justice by his side. He brings Peace and Prosperity to the land. No longer bowed under the burden of oppression, the empire flourishes and expands. What marvelous Peace, what joyful Prosperity Justice brings! All doers of evil and workers of inequity tremble in Fear at the mention of Righteous Justice.
But our Righteous hero stirs in his sleep and awakens from nightmares at the thought of evil gathering in the shadows and corruption festering within. He seeks to eradicate evil where it may be found and to excise corruption from humankind. And thus, he wages war upon evil itself. Oh, how singing turns to mourning, how laughing turns to weeping, how dancing turns to marching. Peace dies and Prosperity withers when Justice becomes Perversion.
Our hero fights his Righteous battle, but the evil multiplies everywhere he looks. It eludes him, vanishing in one place and appearing in another. It shapeshifts and transmutes. Here, a foreigner, there a friend. Here, a fugitive, there a family. All sought out, all destroyed, all eradicated, all brought to justice in blood, blood, blood, blood.
Still our hero is troubled. Still he cannot sleep for he knows that some pocket of evil still remains. After scouring the ends of the earth, our hero realizes that the ultimate Evil, the ultimate, Corruption, lies within himself. His looks to see his hands dripping blood down his throne, and he realizes he reigns with Perversion by his side.
Solemnly, our Righteous hero wields Justice one last time.
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