Chapter Text
Before we go ahead with this story, a few notes on the form in which you will find it told.
Any story is a process of observation and recollections and we’re asking Monsters to recall something very painful in particular. It would be kind to call this a narrative of sorts, rather than a collage, snapshots. Smears and blurs which may imply the events of this period of time, the present and things which will inform stories in the future. As observers we’re not entitled to the windows we peer into as much as we believe we are. Where are the documents of idle days? The hard boiled detective’s 3 days on public transit? The Romance protagonist’s regular work day without interacting with or speaking of their soulmate? What we know is very little and what we’re given isn’t very much, just whatever needs to be chronicled and the context in which to tell it.
Here, we’ll be given even less. They’ve suffered enough.
But to suffer a little more we must request, as we recall where we last left [THE WORLD] of Monsters? Lucy had unleashed the first, well for lack of a better term for it, Kaiju onto London. If the prison of Humanity was achieved by keeping Monsters ignorant of their nature, it’s hard to deny the reality of something so gargantuan, tearing through the Capital. A process that should’ve been born of introspection and revelation, was transformed into something non-consenting and violent. The most Monsters were born that day, then any other day in history, at least until tomorrow. Some lucky places were even blessed with a Kaiju in their own city as a result of this, a perfect wedge for Monsters to wrest control from a Humane Governance. Some places of this kind of huge social change were predictable, would you believe Manchester, Leeds and Liverpool were sites of instantaneous assertion of their respectives cultures the moment the grasp of Humanity weakened? Not exactly and anyone could’ve expected it, even unfortunately the forces of Humanity. But what about little old Essex? A county truly written off by it’s neighbours, the Texas of England if you will. This isn’t a place of honor, it’s were middle class say “bo’o’ulll ‘o ‘augh’er” on TV and that. Culturally, it doesn’t make too much sense, but if there was ever a place where the spirit of rebellion shone deceptively, it’s this little slice of hell. Cos they wanted it, maybe even more than the North, they craved this era of Darkness, Death and Destruction so bad and the devil caught these wishes.
Oh, well that’s very convenient for us isn’t it? We’ve been following such a thing from this place haven't we? And when the news of the Kaiju and declared war on the Humans broke out, they needed to go back. Suddenly Nottingham didn’t much feel like home anymore, their home, their REAL home was burning and they needed to get back and fight at any cost. And back in Colchester is where we find them once again, not via a portal to The Hounds of Tyre, no no no, legitimately in it’s soil. We must follow The Grey Squirrel once again in this tale. ‘Why?’ You ask?
Because Butters, despite everything, hasn’t escaped their cycle, not yet.
The curtains must close on [THE WORLD] they came from once again.