Ten million mouths ope in quiet communion, praying for pain. It is an invocation of justice tumbling from tongues long tied. A clarion trumpet demanding truth in a long night of lies. And slipping silently from darkness into the bright light of dawn comes Lady Justice, let us pray.

And in a multitude of breasts beats anew the heart of hope. For prudent are those who have long suffered under the abuse and usurpations of the wicked and not raised their hand. And blessed shall be he who parts the darkness for them, who raises up his brothers and returns their lost children.

To him who has walked the righteous path through the dens of inequities and seen the faces of selfish tyrants, you are awaited. But know that if you be but a dream, your path shall yet prevail. For where we go one, we go all, and upon our shoulders shall your dream be borne.

And there is no anger greater than that of those who have seen their brothers poisoned and children destroyed by the profiteers of death. Those who have willingly walked the wicked path have summoned forth the inevitable justice of their own punishment, and his name is witness.

And so we wait and we pray to hear Justice's sandaled feet treading the homeward path. And lo, she comes. Beside her rides a man emblazoned with the symbol of death, whose eyes have seen the mad heart of the devourers. And blessed is the witness, for his name is Pain.