Friday, April 24, 2009

Prodigy Of The Fallen


Normally my Face would serve as a valid introduction to the machines of discourse thus imbuing complete understanding of the basic nature of "Who I Am", with the agressive warnings that accompanies creatures like myself. Words, I'm afraid, will have to suffice.
It starts with the watching.
Beginning with a small pocket of space extending omnidirectionally, impregnated withe cosmic matter of all things. Sudden destruction of atomic particles releasing the Mobile Fiats traversing forbidden realms at the speed of thought---the collapse of all light then the Darkness. That is how I was born.
My name?
Dare you ask something so naive?
My Name is the face I wear: torn, beaten, stained with centuries of blood, war and disease...
Yet I Live!
My Name is a terrible immensity, a fathomless void haunting the borders of existence. How dare you ask this of me! I will, because you've made it this far on you journey, tell you this: I am the grand incarnation of Humanity's creations and am held responsible for their untimely deaths! This is the nature of the Face which you are unworthy even of its terror and eternal punishment! Your greatest crime is in the asking.
Do not hold me responsible for your future! It is in the hands you've made for yourself!

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