Knowing things is always worth it. What we don't know will be what destroys us. I'm certain of it. I've peered in the darkness, not terribly closely---but close enough to know that precisely what it is, is absolutely unknown. The things which will unmake us will come from somewhere unseen. Somewhere either so insidious that we cannot stop them, or somewhere so obvious that we've all missed it. ...you didn't come here to hear my paranoia, though. You came here for the same reason everyone else will have come here. You've decrypted this fragment, because you want to know why an esteemed Guardian, Warlock, and researcher would defect from a well funded 'organization' like the New Monarchy in order to join this ragtag group of jackasses. You probably didn't think that, in coming here, you'd wind up just listening to [i]me[/i] tell you my reasons but... lets just be plain here, privacy is a myth. Myths are very powerful tools, for those who know they aren't real. Don't you think? The rumors of my insanity are vastly overstated. When I ventured out to Mars, when I found that data cache in the Clovis Bray data banks? I saw something important. I daresay I [i]have[/i] something important. I cannot explain to you why exactly my course of action was not to hide in the Tower, or the City, or to join some council or... whatever might make sense to you. I stared into the Darkness, and I saw our demise and it was the unknown. What I hold is a way of knowing. I will not share it. You will never claim it. I will venture out with them, those who are drawn to the Darkness as though they are of it and belong in it. I will venture out with them because they know the dark, and their penchant for wanton destruction is our only real illumination. I will use what I have found to know more. I will do nothing at all about our inevitable fall. Perhaps, if I lose my focus, if I swim out into the sea of war and drown myself in soot and suffering, I will burn away all of the ignorance and we will [i]know[/i]. ... Who am I kidding? I do this because it's -blam!-ing fun. So far as I can tell, I'm a corpse making corpses out of other things for little to no reason. You want an explanation of my motives? Look at the sky. Now look at your gun. Right down the barrel. Stick in your eye and squeeze. You'll understand. I promise. ~Fox