WWZ / HOW IT ENDS

This is how it all came crashing down.

While we doom scrolled, they schemed our doom. While we fought each other, they chipped away at our last remaining dregs of unity, piece by piece. They came for our speech. Our thought. Our free will. 

They didn’t take it all at once, though. They. They replaced causes with chaos, unity with factions, truth with whatever they could sell. And we let them. We handed them the keys while we looked the other way, too busy drowning in distractions to notice the locks clicking shut.

When the world started burning, we didn’t fight the flames. We got pissed. Because what else could we do? Everything was already gone—the hope, the trust, the belief that things could ever get better. It was easier to drink, to scroll, to fight strangers online. Easier to laugh at the absurdity of it all and write an album of songs that held a mirror up to the world, than to face the horror down head on.

But there were some who couldn’t look away. They saw the rot setting in, and decided to rip it out by the roots. They weren’t loud. They didn’t argue online or beg for likes. They moved in silence, building strength where no one thought to look.

And when the time came, they rose.

They didn’t fight with weapons but with ideas, with the truth that had been buried beneath years of lies. They reminded us what we’d forgotten: that power is given, not taken. That those in their ivory towers only rule because we let them.

The reckoning happened quietly, in the dark, when no one was watching. They came for the powerful in their beds, tore them from their palaces, and put their heads on spikes. Not for revenge, but as a reminder to the rest of the cunts that all the people had to do was rise together and they would be unstoppable.

But the damage was already done and we were already fucked. The Horsemen had already ridden through, leaving chaos in their wake.

War had stripped us of peace.
Death had taken those who couldn’t fight.
Famine had starved us of hope.
And Conquest had made us kneel before kings of our own creation.

The button was always gonna be pushed. The world was always gonna burn.

Because this is how it ends.

War. Death. Famine. Conquest.