The Grandmaster Has Spoken

BA-NA-NA-NA!
Roger Glipglorp: "Good morning, my guys, gals, and non-binary pals! It's me, Roger Glipglorp! Hitting you with the latest and greatest coming from the Pact Worlds. This just in -- Grandmaster Nawa Jin of the Solarions of Idari has reportedly made a full recovery, and is coming to us -- LIVE!"
There is a static in the dream, as we leave the digital world, and instead hover in the real. Nawa Jin stands at a podium, in the heart of Absalom Station, just outside the towering government building of Bastion. Several Stewards are about, but they don't seem to be providing the Kasatha security -- instead, they seem angry at the media display, but too afraid to do anything about it.
Nawa Jin: "My fellow citizens of the Pact Worlds... As I fear I will soon be silenced, let us waste no time."
At the mention of censure -- especially of such a respected figure -- the crowd of reporters in front of Nawa Jin start tinkering with their video drones, preparing backups and extra microphones. Through the Haze, we spot many reporters eye the waiting Stewards, and rummage about in their coats, activating hidden surveillance gear.
Nawa Jin: "I have spent the past seven weeks eating food through a straw. Tended by the best healers the Idari has to offer, plagued by cuts, burns, and curses. You have all heard of the tragedy at the Pact Summit, and the crimes that were commited there. The events that injured me so, and caused my silence."
There is a murmur of worry as Nawa Jin mentions the gala, and the rumors that his own students and allies took part in the slaughter. But the Haze speaks of disbelief as well... Nawa Jin, the mighty hero? Affiliating with terrorists and Reptoids? It didn't add up.
Nawa Jin: "Blame has been placed at the feet of Valentina Terris -- a well-respected friend of the Pact Worlds -- and the Dream Team, the saviors of Mataras. These accusations are false."
The reporters leaned in, and at the back of their crowd, where a sea of citizens had begun to gather, several nodded in earnest. The rumors were false -- Nawa Jin was hear to speak the truth. But there were others who scowled, scoffing in disbelief. The old hero was growing senile... Saviors of Mataras? Alexander Marcus was the savior of the galaxy!
Nawa Jin: "I will not sway all of you. I know I have been in the background for too long, content to let the next generation lead us. But they have gone astray... Alexander Marcus works with the Cult of the Elder Mythos, and worships Jestyr!"
At the mention of House Marcus, the Stewards gulp, their radios chattering as someone shouted on the other end, and they moved in -- not towards the Grandmaster, but the wires connecting the podium microphones, and the media recording him.
Nawa Jin: "Your own Council bows to him, and without House Terris, the Directorate cowers at his name! The galaxy burns down around us, and he draws our focus to home!"
Several reporters cry out as they are apprehended, video drones shut off as they're confiscated, and citizens begin to pull out their comm units, recording the atrocities. Nawa Jin takes notice, his brow furrowing in anger, but he stays at his podium.
His purpose is here.
Nawa Jin: "Hear me."
The dream cuts rapidly, showing a new location with every flash. The Burning Archipelago, where a stall vendor hears a voice, and looks to the sky. To Aballon, where the Anacites pause their work, and attune to the voice as one. The voice spreads across Absalom Station and Akiton, across the two halves of Verces. Through the Idari and the asteroid fields of the Diaspora. The voice falls on undead ears in Eox, calls to dragons on Triaxus, dreamers on Liavara, the storms on Bretheda, and the Drow of Apostae. Last, the voice pierces Aucturn's eldritch shell, and taunts our enemies.
Nawa Jin: "We are not silent. We are not afraid. We shall return."
A scuffle breaks out in the crowd, as a brick sails across the square, and clips a Steward in the chin. Stun guns and batons are pulled out, and reporters begin to flee, clutching their intact video modules to their chests. A bus with government logos on the side squeals into the chaos, depositing police officers in riot gear, and a man in power armor comes up to the podium, where Nawa Jin watches the fighting with sorrow. A firm hand claps the Solarion's shoulder...
And slides through the Grandmaster like air, colliding with the podium.
Nawa Jin: "This is not all that we can be."
The illusion of Nawa Jin disappears.
The dream fades.