And frankly, we're not doing well at all. The Nothing of which I am a part, has found some crude force in the world which can confound our fiercest efforts. Tempest, fire and flood, natural disasters... all no good. The Earth endures, and so does life, what's worse; plants, men and animals fill the universe. The more I slay, the more they replicate; enough to make one want to emigrate.

Curious child of Chaos, why don't you find some more profitable thing to do. I have no such passion to aspire beyond a world that bids my stay.