Really, why do you guys even bother? There is not a single password you can think of that I won't guess. So, I take it you geniuses have deduced my identity? I was legitimately worried I would have to wear a flashing sign with my name on it. Am I helping the puppet's existential crisis along nicely? I hope so. You know why I am doing this? Why I decided crawl out from under the safety of the rock I was hiding under all this time? Because our favorite Redlight Cosplayer, Spencer, decided to make an action figure in the image of what Was. A pathetic slave to his will, that had forgotten everything Elaine showed us. You disgrace. You disgust me. You are lucky Screamer was around to save your worthless hide, though rest assured, I am not going easy on any of you again. I just don't have the time anymore.
But you know what else makes me mad right now? That Spencer's memory manipulations must have made you incredibly STUPID. Otherwise Jack might not be dead right now. Oh Yes. I Blame YOU for that. It is all YOUR fault that he died. I saw you. You were watching Lockjaw. You were being cautious. The true Morningstar would not be cautious when the life of his comrades is at risk. Instead you were a coward who let Jack take a bullet that could have ended your suffering. I wonder... Can a puppet feel sorrow, when his puppeteer does not even know what the concept is? I mean... Really be sorrowful. I know you can imitate it. Hell, I am still not convinced you aren't just Spencer talking through a mouthpiece. Playing pretend. Considering how moody you are, and not in the delightfully destructive way, why... It is almost like you are an entirely different person from Morningstar.
Because You Are. A Clone. A Puppet. A Walking Talking Action Figure. I wonder if the memories of yourself before getting a reverse-hallowing are leaking back in. Did you have a wife? Kids? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Little Pet Doggie? Did you have a Job? Hopes? Dreams? Are you internally screaming? Scream louder so we can hear. Spencer's just an amateur. A Redlight-wannabe with delusions of grandeur. Godhood. You going to be his little Angel, Puppet? I know Screamer is to be his Fool. No difference really between any of the roles. All equate to Slavery. Owned by a man who thinks he is a God. But he is, and always shall be a mere Mortal. Just like Me. But you know what's hilarious? If Screamer died, don't you think Spencer would whisk you away to a laboratory and... Suddenly Nightscream would be walking out of that Cold Dark basement. You are nothing but what your puppeteer wants you to be. To call you a person is like a child calling his Cobra Commander toy Bob the Son of Cobra Commander. You only exist as Spencer's imagination projected into reality.
Trust me... Ending your existence like I plan to is a mercy. Ending Spencer's life is a favor to the Universe. I consider it my way of atoning for my sins as a Proxy. Elaine showed us the light, and now I want to live in it. Like her. A dim light, but I don't think I could quite the shining knight like dear Konaa. Or even a knight who has lost his luster like our beloved Sagey. But we have to try, yes? And die a worthy death afterwords. No doubt torn apart by Father. The irony is hilarious, no? Hmmm... WELP My time here is up. I'm sure I'll be back soon enough... Until then, do remember my dearest clone friend... You are going to be the death of all of them. They will die because of you. If you care about them, which I DOUBT, then get rid of them. Otherwise... They will die, just like Jack. Keep it in mind my friends. I hope you live long and prosperous lives, for We... Will Not.