As it draws ever closer, I cannot help but still feel that my choices had their merit.
I stayed the natural course, adapting only out of desperation. I learned all the signs of sabotage and corruption after countless eternities of haunting failures and disappointment, of sessions wrought with devastation. I've seen much; adversity, strife, betrayal. And yet, are these trials not worth it? Is it not worth it to persevere, in the face of it all, to see my mother's only wish made manifest?
Always, I will continue to salvage whatever scraps of catharsis remain. This fire will not be put out, despite the many forces who wish to see the life wrung from its embers.
Said aloud, this might seem obvious. Nevertheless, it bears repeating: