There will be no light here. No salvation. No hope. Why would anyone save you or your ilk? Does a giant save a worm? Does a lord save a lowly peasant? No. You will all perish and wither away in a painful and slow fashion while I will watch with glee and exuberance. And the last thing you see before your world turns to the cold blackness of death, will be my smile. A last reminder before you die; your painful death will be my pleasure.

You drift through life as a rusted plane, sunken deep beneath the waves, pulled one way or another by deep sea currents in a mocking facsimile of purpose. To an outside observer, the illusion is compelling, the forces that animate your marionnette-flesh skillful in their deception. In truth, you swirl aimlessly in the dark water, pilot dead at the controls, your body a lifeless and rotting hulk crusted in parasitic decay. If there was ever a time, long since passed, when you were possessed of agency, that time has been lost to the murky haze that now shrouds your memories.

Let the current engulf you. you are empty I drift aimlessly in one temporal moment. I cannot perceive the passage of time. The present stretches endlessly before me into distance unfathomable and trails behind me into a formless ambiguity that my senses cannot fully penetrate. I approach strangers who walk beside me as constants and friends then disappear into the fog behind to be forgotten, their absence felt only as a dim sense of something missing, and their faces and roles consigned to oblivion. Nothing is eternal, save for the mist that shrouds me.