"What a shame it is that the world had forgotten- months ago, once upon a time all have but censored from their own mind out of fear, the Emperor had nearly deemed my people legal. Many of these hecklers here do not know what they speak, or they would sooner strike a child as punishment for being lost than they would guide them back home to their worried parents. The people speak of the impossibility of it all, and yet, it had almost come to be."
Deep within the darkness of the sewers did the undying creature reply, with each vowel a strum and consonant a toll. The self-proclaimed Lich Lord tapped their claws against the wooden desk, each finger adorned with golden sharpness atop metallic clutches that seldom cupped kindness in the way they did now. With their fiery gaze parsing over this calling from Alexandria, Xilthruum spoke, for once, to a nearly empty hall as they wistfully recalled the moments that projected ever-so-clear within their mind of ink and spiders.
"In a manner, Alexandria is correct. Were Sanguinism made legal, and legal measures put into place, the destructive purpose of the crimson tide would cease, and the waters would fall still. It is from the genocide and the medical and theological crusades that my people have evolved a need to surpass-- a need for arms and defenses, sometimes pre-emptive strikes, against men who would sooner commit infanticide than accept her son to be different from the norm. Had we not been asked to surrender so much culture all at once to a library so censored and restrictive, we could have been among the streets today, breaking the same loaf of bread and striking the same bell to call for the herald's daily news. But to become an Imperialist and foregoing all the art, the cuisine, the fashion, the language, the knowledge, the faith? We would conform to that same bland image as serfs and soldiers, not thespians and theorists, as my court is made of. Plenty have I spoken to scholars and politicians who can see we are separate in image, not in humanity, but who fear having their voters lost or subscripts blacked out if they were to admit to it.
Perhaps some day the world will be ready for my people, poor Alexandria. But so long as the walds of the Archipelago fill with bolts; so long as the waters of the sacrosanct flow with drowning pleas; so long as family forgets that blood is thicker than holy water; so long as personal success and evolution is seen as weakness; so long as the uneducated babble and sharpen their pikes, there can be no assimilation.
And so there shall be no peace."