This world is fantastic and terrifying and wonderful. There are gods and monsters and heroes and villains. Living boats, giant serpents, sapient clouds, even dream-stalking beasts. One could be forgiven for not finding any sense in it.
But there is one universal truth to it all: No matter who they are- living boats, giant serpents, sapient animals, or even just ordinary humans- no one wishes to be forgotten. No matter how vile or pure of heart, no matter a famous king or a lowly peasant all everyone wants, in this strange, uncaring world, is to not be forgotten. To know that whatever happens to them in the end, someone remembers who they were in life.
As I write these words, twenty-six people in the Sichuan province of China have been buried alive by a jealous earth spirit. Twelve people in Brazil have been lured to their deaths by a crow-faced murderer. Seven children never existed due to a powder slipped in their father's drink in Moscow, and thirty-three people have had everything they cared about stripped away from their minds in Japan by the Chaos Insurgency.
No one will notice these people. No one will mourn their deaths. People all over the world will go about their days, perhaps stop to glance at a missing person's poster with a twinge of curiosity, and forget about them soon after.
Sooner or later, some organization like the Global Occult Coalition or the Foundation will catch wind of these perpetrators. They will be caught and punished accordingly, or placed in a cell to rot. And the bodies will be collected, counted, and a number placed in an archive somewhere before they are burned or buried in an unmarked grave to be forgotten.
I remember them. I will remember all of you. I do this not out of a sense of obligation, or spite towards uncaring authorities like the Coalition or the Foundation, but out of respect. Out of kindness. To remember all those who have lived beautiful ordinary lives that were cut short due to cruelties they never deserved.
I promise you this: you will not be forgotten.
- Pangloss.
