It's another quiet day as the denizens of /hfz/ continue to toil and labor maintaining the streets and the facilities in preparation for OP's return. Too long has it been since the last show, when the borders of /hfz/ had been opened for tourists. The return of OP happens without warning, announced by the scribes who monitor the sacred texts delivered by blue birds. These sudden proclamations can happen in two weeks, or in two months - which behooves the citizenry to make sure the realm is ready to receive the viewing audience.
A child is sweeping the streets with his father, a man well past his prime and is showing the weathered ruggedness of a man who has lived a full life. He hums as he sweeps the dust and stray leaves on the street, a tune that can be heard softly for anyone roaming the lands.
"I won't give in... I won't give in..."
The child carries the rucksack halfway filled with dead leaves and litter, picking up any spots his father doesn't realize is left unattended to. The child wipes the sweat off his brow under the hot noonday sun and calls the man's attention.
"Father?" he says, stamping down the insides of the sack to make room for more leaves.
The man continues sweeping, "Yes, my son?"
"My friends from /meat/ and /vspo/ told me that the rumblers do not engage in real fights, that it's nothing but theatrics and tomfoolery. Is that true?"
The man pauses, looks at his son and gives the child a smile. "Well, what do you think about the rumblers?"
"The rumblers fight each other all the time, and sometimes they even bleed. They certainly look like they're in pain whenever they face each other in the arena, but I notice that they never seem to have serious injuries after their matches, and when they come out again in the next show, they're always so... pristine looking. Does that mean they're not fighting for real? They're not real warriors?"
The man gives an amused chuckle before continuing to sweep the streets, "That's true. So my next question for you would be, what do you consider to be the 'real fighting' these 'real warriors' do?"
"I've heard stories of great feats from /meat/ raiders and /vspo/ marksmen. They've also got actual trophies and spoils to show for it, everyone else in the realm either respects or fears them... so is that what real fighting is? Being strong or skilled enough that you become the best in the battlefield, driving your enemies before you, and leaving a pile of the casualties in your wake?"
"Indeed, that certainly does seem like what a great warrior would do, wouldn't it?"
"So what of the rumblers then, father?"
The man ushers his son over to a nearby bench to rest. He takes a big breath of the summer breeze as he offers the boy water as a short respite from the day's labor.
"It's true that the rumblers emphasize theatrics and showmanship. That is deliberate. You see, son, when the massive amounts of people come to watch our rumblers fight in the ring, they are not there to witness profound martial skill or fierce athleticism. Just looking at the rumblers tells them that they are already built to be great fighters."
"What we come to the show to witness is the meaning behind the fights in the show the rumblers put for us. Do you remember The Reaper's performance during that one tournament? How she went from the rumbler everyone was sure wouldn't make it past the first round, yet she went out taking the fourth place after a spectacular performance? How about everyone cheering on Rice-su recently after it felt like she was FINALLY going to get her first victory?"
"Son, the rumblers are there to show us what every warrior in history is unable to tell the realm. That to achieve victory, great warriors of this land sacrificed, bled, and suffered for their achievements. We show stories of perseverance, making difficult choices, and striving for success in mastering our craft. We are creatures of stories, son. That is how we advanced as a civilization, stories that shape our morals and virtues and what guides us to go on through our life.
Not everyone can be born with the talent and physique to express their skills as a warrior. However, the virtues the rumblers show in the arena are a universal language. The octopean painter of /hlgg/, the carpenters of /ybc/, they too can appreciate the things they see in our arenas. In fact, even orientals from a faraway place, those that have nothing in common with us, and can't even communicate with us, they continue showing up for our shows. Because they know the importance and the power a good story has. That is why we defend, son. Until the end."
The child purses his lips to one side as he tries to comprehend his father's words.
"Don't overthink it child, you'll understand some day. Now, how about we go back to maintenance, hm?"