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A day in Metropolis, walking through the bustling masses is like asphyxiation. The more time you spend amongst them, watching them down grande frap and vente mocha as if they were water and jabber away the hours on cells, I can feel the noose around my neck grow ever tighter.

The offensive amalgam of gothic architechture, a relic of a time long passed,
and the cold,calculated baronial steel and glass coffins, 
a symbol of the end of individuality, make for a morose prison cell.

As as the work day ceases and the sirens blare, they amass in the streets like maggots on death. They leave their mark, not just with their commercial waste, but with fingerprints and footsteps.

I pass them by, and all I see is a waste of a life. They perhaps see the same, but I doubt it. I doubt they see me at all.

What they fail to realize is that under this plain brown-paper-and-string exterior lies The ANSWER.

Its not my fault society is fucked up. But I can SAVE it. I can rid society of those wastes and offenders.

EWT's been holding out for a hero like a girl saving her virginity for THE ONE. She could fuck some guy in the back alley behind a nightclub that she's too young 
to legally enter, much like EWT could rely on FALSE PROPHETS.

The QUESTION is, will EWT stay abstinent? Wait for the heroes, and not waste it on someone who is "just a fuck"? Or will they prove themselves to be no better than the people we're trying to save them from?

Now its your job to give the right ANSWER. One chance. No Do-overs. So, whats it going to be?