The bears are come to remind us that all is chaos. All will be left to the bears, and to the shrubs, as empires fall, each in its time.
It is a somnambulant and disquieting reality, this Triple Town. Unknowable Lovecraftian horrors await at every turn. Quake at your smallness! Madness slathers with hunger and claws at your door. Yes, in the gaping maw of madness lies your perdition.
Your perdition is Triple Town.
This seems impossible, you say. Impossible! But all things are possible through Triple Town. All that becomes impossible beneath the great and terrible gaze of Triple Town, all that shall not linger—cannot linger!—in this dismal, eternal city...
You say that you have come to conquer and dismantle Triple Town. I tell you that your heroism is the buzzing of a gnat amid a tempest. I tell you that your endeavor is doomed before it has begun. I tell you, for I pity you, that your eternity is but the blink of an eye to Triple Town. Therefore tremble, and depart.
Depart, while there still is life in you, though your retreat, like your bravery, means nothing. Triple Town will find you, wherever you may run. And should you live a thousand thousand lifetimes, your happiness will turn to ash as you hear the bears approaching, their growls crisp and icy and immutable.
And then, darkness.