When you finish a journey, your heart is usually torn. You are content for the experience, the memories you stored that you may recall whenever you feel nostalgic, for everything you gained and the ways it changed you, but you are also overcome with sadness, a bittersweet melancholy that soaks your pores and settles in your bones. That's exactly how I felt after finishing Warheart.
An extract of the dialogue that took place between my Brain and my Heart after I finished The Beau & the Belle is cited below. There might be some inconsistencies because I was still flushed from the sizzling chemistry between Lauren and Beau. You have been warned.
Imagine radiant, colourful fireworks exploding in your chest.
They leave only ribbons of tattered flesh and a pool of blood. The pain is unbearable, but when they exploded, the sight was so beautiful it left you speechless, and thus you don't harbor any regrets. When Hurt and Art mingle, in a way that makes you feel alive in your nerves and in your cells, the explosion seems like a fair price. A price I willingly paid when I read Uncharted.
For the autumn leaves that rustle under your feet? For the smell of the soil after rain? For the juicy peaches that melt in your mouth? For the sound of the tumultuous waves when they reach the shore? For the laughter of a child that views the world as a wonder?
Darrow au Andromedus fights for the freedom, the opportunity to live for the above. For an oppressed people that hides in the shadows of the so-called superiors for centuries. But in order to escape the monster, you either hide or fight. And fighting is the path, the painful, bloody, sinister path Darrow chose. Betray your friends. Scheme with your enemies. Rise next to people who stole your everything. Alienate those who genuinely care about you. And in doing so, become the monster yourself.