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[Dealthagar]

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Dealthagar lounged in his bed, staring at the cieling. His Vision of the Damned was restored, and it picked at the inperfections in the tile, showing the cracks and flaws, where age and wear would break things down and rot would set.

The elegance and art he had surrounded himself with all showed the signs of age and entropy. Where pigments would fade, and paper would yellow and cloth would wear all became apparent.

The rot ate at him to the core.

Oblivion had taken him back, and the Technomancer Primus of Sosaria was once again the Herald of Oblivion. His memories were mostly whole, but the Vision of the Damned tugged at them too, showing him the trails of entropy.

His love had left the land, driven by the madness that had birthed and remade her...

His brother had fled the land, a lost soul in a sea of uncertainty...

His greatest enemy had walked away from the shard, a victim of ennui...

The Light's greatest champion, the one who had nearly redeemed him had fallen from the plane, looking for greater challenges to best...

And parroting GreyPawn's words the day he had left the realm, the Creator, the great Puppeteer echoed the mage's sentiment. "You'll be back."

Death was not an end. It wasn't even a beginning. It wasn't a release.

It was a reminder. A reminder of the existance the Technocrat could not escape.

Faith was a lie. Faith in anything. No one knew the truth on anything. We are all ignorant ants running around in an aimless existance of uncertainty.

Morals are passing. Anything can be justified to make any point, for or against any moral compass.

The flesh is weak, a passing thing that only serves to remind beings of thier dreary existance. In the end, it was nothing more than another tool to be used, or another resource to be harvested.

Dealthagar's hand shot into the air, snatching a fly lazily crossing the room. He squeezed until he heard the crunch, and the Vision of the Damned saw the life pass from the insignificant creature.

Opening his hand, he murmured a necromantic spell, and the fly sprung to life again, aware of it's pain, but forced to exist again, a mockery of its life.

No different than I.

He crushed the mockery again, and consumed it, the bitter tang of its life as much sustinance as food.

Peace is a illusion. Existance is transitory. We are all figments of a greater lie.

He closed his eyes and looked deep into the Void of himself. He was a conduit of Oblivion and the hands of the Void. The maker, the destroyer, the Alpha, the Omega. As long as existance was, he would be. Jase had not understood the nature of Dealthagar's immortality. Dealthagar would suffer, eternally. There would never be a release, as long as there was existance.

I must destroy it all.

The words fell like bolws of a hammer on an avil as they entered his mind. It was the One Truth. The sun, the stars, the moons, they would all need to be pulled down from the heavens for him to have freedom. All would need to be consumed. The world, the universe, existance, reality.

I must destroy it All.

To quench the thirst of the great puppeteer, the maker of time, he had to do it. To be free of the strings, to finally know peace, there was onlu one recourse left. The madness of it struck him, and peals of laughter echoed from him. The clarity of truth drove him to the one madness that there could be only one answer for.

Nothing else mattered. Friendships, partnerships, family, children, duty, discourse, love, hate...nothing mattered. There was only one path left.

I must destroy it ALL.


- FIN -
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The Three Truths of Singularity
Do something to the best of your abilty or don't do it at all
Feel to the fullest of your ability, cutting yourself off from your emotions leads to spiritual death
Control your being, your existance, your destiny.
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