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In a breath, it is attached to the frail cortex. Here, it can thrive. Here, it will feel the presence of the weight of existence. It slithers deeper still, beyond the discourse of intellect and the purposelessness of carbon-based life. It heaves, it hacks, it leeches. It stabs the pupils with ultimate brilliance. It bakes orb after orb in an astroamniotic slop. Blood is the conduit through which this pathogen is transmitted. Faith is genetic, love endemic to this earthen biosphere. These pathetic emotions are foreign to the cold, mathematical precision of our surrounding universe. We are to be crushed. Nay, we are meant to be conquered. Before our vision purple is to be squelched by the darkness inflicted upon us as Sol is extinguished mercilessly, we will see biomechanical tendrils sway before us. We will witness the void swallow our microverse whole, this speck of biology suffocated in a titanic wave of raw minerals and astral waste. We will again be assimilated into the void and from our destruction the vastness of space will not suffer. It will be unburdened, whilst we will be faithfully dissected, body mind and soul and sewn into the hem of the Supraverse. I see our planet floating, gutted in the void. Matter spilling out in all directions. This has been our fate and it will be yet again.

-The Poet, Doctrine .2615789

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