Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.
“Startin’ off on a cheerful note tonight, I see.”
It is a lie to say that Leviathan knows all the patterns of the Void, even after nearly fourteen years - truly, she doesn’t think anyone can really know the Void except its black-eyed god, and of him she knows even less.
Still, she has come to think of it as something close to comfort (though she will never admit that to any living creature, least of all him). When the gutted shell of her city shifts beneath her feet, she moves with it, from scattered cobblestones to a storefront suspended in midair to a ship that has wrecked itself on nothing until she stands before the Outsider.
“That’s a depressing way of looking at things, innit? There’s a lot more to life then just waiting until we die.”
