Sign inNow I've seen everything. We were all so wrong. All of this—the machines, the Eliksni, the worms, the Light, the Nine. All of it meaningless. This galaxy is tumbling toward a singular conclusion and there is nothing—no one—that can stop it.
How could I have missed this? It's the small moments, the simple pleasures that matter. They're all I can think about now. Food and drink aren't mere sustenance. They're a reminder that I am alive.
This Leviathan. This prison ship. I will remake it, as I have been remade. No longer will it represent a mythical beast from the dreams of worms. It will serve as an icon for my newfound gluttony.
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