Deus: An Epilogue

Capitulating to the wild, random and fickle. Sigils weaved from nothing, we digest, divide amongst our kin, our hands stiffened and hastily fragmented, our eyes on the sun, we are all wrapped in cellophane, falling in place, as the holy crown for man, our Lord and Savior. Man forbid thou escape his grip today! Even so, he will surely find thee later.