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we witness the deep and the dark. that is why we are here, yes?
there had been a voice, we're certain, one that spoke with authority and of authority and used authority.
we don't like that voice much, do we?
but they're gone, so now we get to see what brought them here. the smog of dark is thinned here, in a way it hasn't been since well before the hands. we laugh, because it's clear as sin what's happened.
flickering in the dark, float 2 souls. there might be a purple misasma choking the bright one, or wisps siphoned towards the white from perseverance contained. persistence. either way, our eyes can read the writing written in hands:
unsustainable.
a little funnel of the abyss seeping into rot, and neither soul breaks apropos their lack of form yet.
ahh, were it not for time, we would see them suffer in this partial-existence forevermore and evermore and eternally and henceforth unto the infinite and for all of angel-damned time and until we grew sick of watching them flail.
our grin widens. oh, wonder! how lucky, then, that they have a friend in the dark, to help fill in the cracks of body and hearts! oh, delight!
these are no souls fit for our many vesselkin, and the body is the most real thing that isn't the hands we've seen all dark, but that would only be a concern were we not a friend. we see no pushback upon approach, so we become more.
paws guide the souls back into the corpse, and they are held close behind pink and yellow lights of eyes. but that is a bit too much of what we were, so we funnel the crumbling into an cavity from a form of the dark, approximating what the body might never have considered. the eye is one thing, and it shifts, as bound as us and the deep.
a flexed hand, an outstretched hoof claw both neither we'll go with the former-latter, and a purple light comes forth, as does an attack. intriguing!
there might be glimpses of something prior, of a deer and a human and a truck and lives before that, but that isn't what we have become, so we won't concern ourselves with them. we would do the same with all of these glimpses, but there is one thing we ought to do.
the best way to break a prophecy is the same as the best way to break anything: give it the wrong correct inputs.
it calls for a monster, a human, and a prince from the dark.
it shall get a monster's body and soul, a human soul and somethings laughing in the dark.
that's what we want, isn't it? something borrowed, something new, something followed, something untrue. we recognise what has been done, we recognise the challenges we face and will wrought, and we proceed unto a plan taken in hand.