And the Second Battle begins

In the periphery of memory, are the scars of the first battle. But already does the Prophet of Screen fire his next shots. Never hid his distaste for the Mandarins of the Mainstream and its past leader, The Priest Deity. Through the Flower of the Bewitching Hour, he now subdues to wage his war. Question she does, of motives and of crass commercialism. Aim his sights at his past collaborator, he wars by proxy.

The battle has begun, a battle which will engulf the systems of the Sphere and its denizens. Ever predictable are these battles, for a cycle of they have formed. The Sphere questions its relevance, and only through mayhem will it find its answers. Such are the machinations of powerful Sith, for within the chaos do the Sith find their destiny.

Awaken from his slumber does the Shaolin Tiger Monk, as enjoin the war he does. A war he now must participate in, for such is the path of the Ten Cyclical Pillars. Firmly on the side of the sleeping monster, he places his guns. But still, proxy is the return salvo. Through the subjugation of weak minds will the dual Prophets battle in the Sphere, as always keeping their machinations clandestine.

But lost is the Sphere in its own hype. Forgotten it has of its roots, and what it once hath proclaimed. For the Prophet himself had launched his soapbox on the back of little avian creatures with nothing to gain. And much gain has the Prophet garnered, on the efforts of the avian swarm. Now with SMS he chooses to go, influenced no doubt by chocolate dreams and of pictures of dead kings. But lost will this hypocrisy be, on the adulators of the Prophet, for complete is their subjugation to his agenda.

And a war they will fight, with much blood and mayhem. As the Sith have predicted.

Gleeful and satisfied in the advent of the forces of Fear, Anger, Hate and Suffering are the Sith.