"Prozium - the great nepenthe. Opiate of our masses. Glue of our great society. Salve and salvation, it has delivered us from pathos, from sorrow, the deepest chasms of melancholy and hate. With it, we anaesthetize grief, annihilate jealousy, obliterate rage. That those sister impulses towards joy, love, and elation are anaesthetized in stride, we accept as fair sacrifice. For we embrace Prozium in its unifying fullness and all that it has done to make us great."
Father's words washed the Prozium down and spread a warm glow of comfort throughout the heart of every Librian but then the renegade Tetragrammaton cleric, Preston, killed Father, destroyed the Prozium factories and watched the garden burn. Now, a month after the end of the Nights of Blood and Fire, Libria is awakening to a harsh new dawn and coming to terms with two generations of feelings it feared having. How does it feel?
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