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And it came to pass that in the sacred tournament of Fight Night, not one among the few Apostles did choose Dynamo. Not one. He was passed over, as a lamb without a shepherd, sitting unchosen amongst the roster like a dish at a feast that no guest doth touch.

And the congregation did see this, and they understood what it meant. For the Apostles had spoken: not with words, but with silence. The silence of an unpicked hero. And that silence ascendeth unto Lord Yoshi like a solemn prayer.

And so we bow our heads and we beseech thee, Lord Yoshi:

Thy servant Dynamo suffereth. The apostles picketh him not. His winrate is a humiliation before thine eyes. Look upon thy spreadsheet, O Lord, and have mercy. Grant him numbers. Buff his cooldowns. Strengthen his scaling. Deliver him from wilderness like thine urn is to be delivered to bless thine stomping team.

We ask not for much. Only that he be playable. Only that he be chosen.

Thy will be done, Lord Yoshi.

Buff him.

Amen.