Prologue
They say that Love is the strongest emotion in the world. It can power wars, dreams, and hopes.
But Hate, is an equally vengeful emotion, and is it not more satisfying? It is fire, burning everything it touches to ashes, yet gives out such an inexplicable thrill of darkness, of insanity.
Does Love scald the hearts of humans and pierce it with such acerbity? Or should Love leave a bitter taste in one's mouth and dark anger coursing through their veins? If Love is so kind, then why does one lose control and a roar of outrage threatening to overcome whatever control they have managed to retain?
Why?
Deep down, they know.
For Hate is all of these things and more. And since love is the deception of false sensation, why would one return the gesture?
Fake love is words and nothing more.
Some call them monsters. People who don't feel anything in the face of love. Many do. And that, to an extent is true, yet it is undeniable. But how can they sit there, pointing fingers at people - if they can be called such - many times more atrocious than others roaming under their very noses when their sins overtake their deeds?
They are blind, all of them. Mortals of this world and more. Blinded by power, blinded by wealth.
Of course, they cannot be blamed.
It is human nature, after all, to seek every opportunity of benefit.
So why should anyone be surprised?
The forbidden is permissible, the taboo is out for all to partake. Is Hate simply built on the fundamentals of undermining, or the duty for foolish protection that could end in a tragedy?
And yet still that underlying struggle for approval and appeal beats on.
Because there's a appeal in transformative and transcendent power. Because there is truth in all the lies humanity has heard of what power does to you.
With power, comes responsibility.
But also, a price that can never be repaid.
That brings us back to an ineluctable and inevitable loop. Humans cannot be blamed for their instincts.
We do not learn from our mistakes.
This is why there are gods, a hierarchy. Legitimate proof, epitomes of perfection to demonstrate that not all of life are reined in by the leashes of power, wealth, sex.
How ironic.
And so we succumb to wars, the pleasures of life, and deny that humanity as a whole is long past the brink of saving.
These wars change people, change gods. In war, every moment, every sound seems more real, you know that at any second someone you care about may be killed. It is kill or be killed, live, or die. And in many ways, we are not that different from animals, though we think of ourselves superior. The laws of the wild have never truly relinquished their hold on us. Weakness is not accepted.
But one must accept this, even though if they have a choice in the saying. Humanity will just have to be faster, better, to survive forever in this age of corrupt.
Because sometimes, the darkness is real.