Niemand
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No one ever leaves HeroesWorld. Not really.
What families get back is a pitiful imitation of their son – a soulless, aggressive beast. Relatives find themselves living alongside creatures angry at everyone and everything, believing in nothing but the banhammer. Yesterday's HW player no longer belongs to anyone or anything. Only to it… Only to HW, from which the body or its remnants returned. The soul stayed there, with it. With HW.
But the body came back. And HW kills it within, piece by piece. Slowly, yesterday's HW player turns from a soulless dunce with empty eyes and a burnt-out soul into some semblance of a human. The aggression subsides, the hate fades… The longest to linger is fear – the animal fear of a ban. But that too passes.
The former HW player learns to live anew – to walk without staring at the ground, to stand at full height, to buy food, not to flinch at sharp sounds… Deriving no pleasure from any of it. Simply because that's how it turned out. Then they get drawn back in. They pass themselves off as an ordinary person. The mask has taken root successfully. Those around believe that they are just like everyone else. They accept them as one of their own. But no one knows they are no longer human. They tell no one the truth. And they wait. For something…
When someone explains to them – why. Why their HW brothers were banned. Why users were sent to the permaban. But no one tells them. And so they begin to tell themselves.
The words come like blood from a wound, vodka is downed by the liter, the ban and madness sit close by, whispering, correcting…
They are back there, on HW, and the banhammer rules all once again. The room fills with screams, moans, the whistle of the moderation sword. Behold, the banned rise from the permaban – all those who were dear to them back then, in that past life… "Go on, brother… tell them… you must!.. They must know… You stayed because we were banned…"
And they understand – they should never have left HW…
What families get back is a pitiful imitation of their son – a soulless, aggressive beast. Relatives find themselves living alongside creatures angry at everyone and everything, believing in nothing but the banhammer. Yesterday's HW player no longer belongs to anyone or anything. Only to it… Only to HW, from which the body or its remnants returned. The soul stayed there, with it. With HW.
But the body came back. And HW kills it within, piece by piece. Slowly, yesterday's HW player turns from a soulless dunce with empty eyes and a burnt-out soul into some semblance of a human. The aggression subsides, the hate fades… The longest to linger is fear – the animal fear of a ban. But that too passes.
The former HW player learns to live anew – to walk without staring at the ground, to stand at full height, to buy food, not to flinch at sharp sounds… Deriving no pleasure from any of it. Simply because that's how it turned out. Then they get drawn back in. They pass themselves off as an ordinary person. The mask has taken root successfully. Those around believe that they are just like everyone else. They accept them as one of their own. But no one knows they are no longer human. They tell no one the truth. And they wait. For something…
When someone explains to them – why. Why their HW brothers were banned. Why users were sent to the permaban. But no one tells them. And so they begin to tell themselves.
The words come like blood from a wound, vodka is downed by the liter, the ban and madness sit close by, whispering, correcting…
They are back there, on HW, and the banhammer rules all once again. The room fills with screams, moans, the whistle of the moderation sword. Behold, the banned rise from the permaban – all those who were dear to them back then, in that past life… "Go on, brother… tell them… you must!.. They must know… You stayed because we were banned…"
And they understand – they should never have left HW…