They weren't a mere mirage, a silent group of people, they were loud, they were a party.

Work was their proof of existence, laboratis ergo estis, in working they made their existence felt. It felt quite good to do that, they had learned that shouting loud would get one alleviation to ones pain quite early, maybe the reason they shouted first was not because of their own experience as they had not collected the experience yet.

It was merely a chemical reaction, that had happend as result of another chemical reaction, a jumpstart that had happened out of the volition of another being.

This surely had happened over and over before, with slight variations, until it had not happened out of anyones volition, and with consent it is often a question of whether one had enough experience to give consent and whether ignoring consent would be more convenient to the one making the choice or the one affected.

If this choice had been already made, and the past could not be changed, retroactively, were they really free in will? If one extended that involuntary action, they could simply do anything, could they? This was not their philosophy.

Their philosophy opposed that of their enemies, those that symbolized everything that stood against them, for one simple reason: one could justify any action against the one that stood against oneself. In that way they supported each other as enemies, tools to justify their actions as long as they were marginally different. Both sides were killing people and eating them, but one side prepared them as steaks, one side as meatballs.

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Objectively, they were fundamentally different groups, statistically subjectively, they were fundamentally different groups, but the significant differences highlighted the similarities, acting as contrast. But that was probably not how differences worked and that was not how both movements were acting. Preparation was only a small part of what they were doing.

The similarities were the contrast for the differences. But they were the party, not one of the groups, both of them. And they made a lot of noise, slaughtering each other on a bloody battlefield. They looked very very similar down there, struggling worms and sizzling meat.

But if one looked very closely, one could spot Chaden hitting a woman with a baseball bat into which several nails were stuck. If one looked very closely, Chaden would just smile, watching Lisaac eat some of her meat as a steak later on. If one waited a bit, a different man, who would feed his children some meatballs made out of Lisaac. There was a significant difference, different people, different meals. The children had enough to eat, but Chaden did have a strong hunger, a hunger for vengeance for his unborn child. People knew that in this new world no hunger would be not sated or at least ceased- permanently. Chaden knew that those children had feelings and emotions and dreams at night, but they would probably not have that at the end of the day - if things went after his will.