Deep in catacombs under the Hall, the only sound was the click of keys. As the quiet man read from his silvery screen, his visage was shock, dismay – and pride.

“Fools! Those glorious, brash FOOLS! Their aim is true, their cause just – but the TRUE awesomosity cannot be shown! To proclaim it is to deny it! The awesomosity is so integral to the whole that to reveal it can be a fatal separation! They must feel the awesomosity flow through them. Through the one, to the many!” His rasp filled the chamber.

“Once I might have risen, to rail against the flash and the show. But I no longer have the strength. Let them fall for a time – it will make them stronger. They will make this place whole and great. I will apply the most surgical strength from the shadows – to help temper the League into an iron unit. One that carries its strength within.” The clicking done, he leaned back in his upholstered chair.

“For I am the LoNA – alone in Non-Awesomosity. From the depths, I salute those… magnificent bastages!”