I have heard the whispers from beyond, powerful and demanding. I have pierced the veil and soared through the tunnel, past time and the vast gulf of emptiness. I have witnessed worlds altered beyond imagination, and the splintered memories of the ancient who ruled there. I have fallen through the breach, my body and mind warped towards oblivion, amongst the formless substances that hunger within.

We shaped the amorphous, defined it, structured it with rule, and forced it onto the cycle. It knew pain. It knew fear. And in time, which it must now endure, it will know Death. How long will it be? Decades? Centuries? Millenia?

In my sleep I still see the infinite river of slime, flowing in a nonsensical pattern that can only be due to our presence. Its destination is nowhere and the source is too distant, too impossible, to fathom. It rises upwards, sprinkling motes of sludge that paradoxically hang in the crafted air. I watch the attempt to live within the regulations form, a series of scale production reaching for the flow. It is the broken husk of a horror attempting to reform itself under a new reality.

I see the faceless creatures floating behind the shroud of our impositions, unleashing an alien screech that grinds away at my skull. Their eyes observe us, waiting, craving. Feelers stretch out from nebulous globules, wracking themselves against the encroaching laws. Foreign feelings pervade the area, delighting at our apprehension.

I witness the fractured thoughts of the beast: The rise of great machines and the erection of idols. Unrecognizable people trampled across countless planets, their suns sundered and consumed. Cosmic conflict against titanic forces, entities feasting on their own.

I see the final desperate act of a God, its contorted malice and fury unshackled upon the great work of artifice, and the sacrifice of a condemned man to see the toppling of an ancient force. I hear the screams of his spirit trapped within.

---

Some actions open doors that can never be closed. The implications of what we’ve done will echo across eternity. We have delivered fear to the timeless, but what dangers have we released? The inevitable search for knowledge, for power, will lead the shrewd to tug at the evidence of our victory.

What does it mean to lobotomize a being the Immortals won’t directly combat?

What does it mean to those who seek their strength?

To hollow a space desired by others of its kind?

To force Abiding elsewhere?

I cannot work without considering these questions, but I feel weary.

I am too young to be this weak.