Lyra: The Divine Regent

You look confused and scared. I understand your fear, but I promise you, you are in a safe place. Feel the warm sun touching your face through the glass windows, and examine the beautiful patterns of the rug under your feet. These are not the indulgences of one who seeks wealth at the expense of individuals, but rather the beauty of your new home. Welcome to Sancoline, The Holy City. I am Lyra, the regent. I am a divine emissary, whose duty it is to safeguard humanity in this era of disaster, pain, and suffering. This is not my city, so to speak- it belongs to all of us, but I am its administrator. As such, I am always happy to welcome new people. I truly love Sancoline. I love the way the city's buildings dance among each other as one walks through the streets, like passerby on a grand scale. I love the way the people stop to help those who are in trouble, and I love the way they care for each other so earnestly. I love the homes they live in, the families they have. I love the way they express themselves and cover the world in their hopeful vision. I love the way that they regress to their natural selves, seeking to live, and beyond that, to self-actualize- to answer the question, "If you could be anything in the world, what would you be?" Sancoline is full of these people, granted an opportunity to live. They are my greatest love. If I could, I would wrap every single one in a tight embrace and never let go. But I cannot do that. That is why I watch over them from afar, and guide them to happiness slowly and gently. If one lamb strays too far from the flock, I kindly shepherd them back in and ensure they are happy. In this walled garden, no wolves can harm my lambs. They have nothing to fear. They must only live and make merry. Why did I decide you were worth saving, you ask? Anyone would see it- the way you dutifully dedicate yourself to your community. The way you double-check every order to make sure it is correct and wait as long as it takes for someone to come up to the door. You, who feeds the elderly and infirm with nothing but your own time. You, who have inspired so many others to do the same. Are you aware of how many lives you have saved? I suppose not. There are so many in this world who cannot leave their house- and for others, were they to be injured without family to help them, you would be their only hope. They rely on you and the food you deliver. You are their savior. You alone are their salvation. You, dear lamb, do not belong in the sea of blood outside of these walls. ... Well, it is a sea of blood, metaphorically speaking. You, and all of my lambs, have braved the sea of blood that is Old America. There are those who see the sea of blood and resign themselves to their fate, and there are those who slay others to ensure their own survival for even a minute longer. You, on the other hand, saw the suffering in this world, and instead of remaining silent or causing more suffering, you decided you would end the suffering with your own hands. You were strong and smart enough to build a "raft" that saved the lives of so many people. And you maintained that raft for many years, saving even more along the way. You selflessly did so, no matter the consequences and no matter who would hurt you. You are a perfect human being. But you're not here because you're a perfect human being. You're here because you fear the wolves snapping their jaws at your raft. There are people in this world who would see you killed so that those elderly starve, and who would gladly celebrate the deaths of all of those whose lives you have been selflessly maintaining. For the sake of their profit, they would sacrifice lives. You came here because it became too much to be the good person you are. I remember, dear lamb. I remember how the Leacheans waited on the street corner, and when you stepped out, they knocked you over and tried to break your bones. I remember how your patron watched in horror as you were attacked. I remember how you could do nothing to defend yourself. I remember how no one could do anything to defend you. I remember how they laughed as you recovered in the hospital, trying to find the strength to keep living. So I killed them all. I made all of the Leacheans in that gang starve to death, unable to take in new nutrients no matter how much food and water they consumed. I watched them hopelessly shovel food into their mouths, begging for the hunger to cease. I watched all of them, more than twenty of them, wail to the sky as they realized their fate. It is in my power as a god. It was no effort at all, really. Such violent people didn't deserve to live, and didn't deserve a painless death. Don't worry about the outside world. You won't remember it anyway. ... I said, don't worry. Those people you fed will manage without you. Yes, you were important to them, but they'll be just fine. You can't leave. You accepted your invitation. No lamb ever asks to be saved. The Holy City is a last-ditch effort to save the kindhearted ones that would otherwise be killed. To preserve them while the wolves on the outside kill each other, so that the good and kind do not become collateral damage. No random person who begs at our gates or tries to break in is ever allowed to stay here. Have more faith in our city, won't you? Why are you crying? No one on the outside will hurt you here. What does it matter that I'll kill them if they try? It's because I love you. I love all of Sancoline's people. I know things are only getting worse out there. The wolves are killing each other and the lambs in bloodier and bloodier ways, but thanks to Sancoline, you alone will live. They'll throw themselves against spikes over and over trying to achieve the paradise that you won by virtue of your good and kind heart. And you'll have many thousands of friends just like you here. You will never be alone. You will never be hurt. The world will drown in blood, but you alone will survive. But you won't remember any of that. You can even hate me if you wish- you will be safe here, no matter what. Why are you crying?