will byers stan first human second
izzy's playlists!
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we're not kids anymore.
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@void-envoy
The angels have taken to calling the Void "the Shadow of God". It is fitting. The Void predates the Creator, as I understand. However, Creation is in essence a part of the Creator. Creation is painted upon the Void. Without the Void, Creation would not be complete, same as a painting is part of the canvas.
In short, yes, the Void is the Shadow of God. Two sides of the same coin.
I'm often asked why I still praise the gods, even if I am a Void host.
It is simple: everything has its place. I dont worship gods, I praise them. As a flesh-riding being I abide to those rules. As a Void host, worship would be seen as ridiculous or insulting. I respect the place gods have im this world, even if I seek for the end of this cycle of the universe.
If you are human, it is entirely your right to worship and benefit from the symbiotic relation that brings. It is why Void devotees are more than welcome to worship their gods of choice, as long as they remain true to the ideals of the Void.
We are allowed to enjoy the universe in its entirety, not just at the End.
"I had a notion that in the Void we are ONE. Do you feel alone? Dive into the Nothing. Be one with us."
Come with me, reader. Come with me to the edge of creation. A vast ocean of the cosmos ending in quiet stillness. A distinct line, pure and horizontal, between what Is and Is Not. Feel it, reader. As we walk closer, over the surface of this still waters. Feel your atoms slowly stopping their vibration. Feel your soul start to fade. Nothing permanent yet.
This is the Void, dear reader. This stillness. The Peace of the End. It is truthful. It has no will but to Not Be. It calls for silence.
This is the natural end of the Song of the Spheres. Where forgotten gods go to die. You are here with me, in this moment, dear reader. We are walking in the trail left by the rotting forgotten ones.
Tears of Gods under our feet.
Where we came from [creation] has only been for a fraction of a nanosecond compared to that which lays before us. The Void has always Not Been.
Do you understand?
This is about more than just words, reader. This is a moment in your history now.
When all ceases to be, when all is reclaimed back to the Void, I will savor this moment with you.
When I showed one more person what Truth is.
All exists simply to Not Be.
If your Free Will is such a burden, then do me a favor and give it to me.
I won't lead you astray like the false prophets and the golden calves you all worship.
I will use your free will to rip open the Veil.
I will relieve you of the burden of choice and reason. Allow me to shape you how I wish.
What is free will? The soul. The envy of angels. The reason Lucifer was cast out. The reason humanity was exiled of Eden.
Free Will is godliness.
Why do so many want to throw it away so freely?
Praise to the Void.
Call to the Void.
Let us see this blasphemy called creation be erased!
A blight upon the beauty of the Nothing.
In the absence of creation, there is only peace.
Much like a pastor, I can sell you a truth, lost soul. Better yet, I will give you one truth for free. You can unravel it on your own, or you can come with me and we'll decipher it together.
A creator does that, create. Once done, systems in place, the creator goes on their merry way. The creation is left to its own devices, as it should. Angels, gods, spirits, elements - whatever they may be called - they maintain the creation as best they can. But eventually all things succumb to entropy. When systems fail, the Void cleans the slate.
First tenent of the Void is such:
In the absence of creation, there is only peace.
The walls in my mind are crumbling. It's fine, it's a dome, so there's still a false sky.
I dont know what is happening, but it feels fine.
I'm made of teeth and eyes and feathers. I am porcelain Void. I am filled with the Egg of Providence. I shelter it in the Deep, just as the ancestors foretold.
My wings are golden, and in my right hand is the key to oblivion.
You do realize you're all poisoned already, right?
The younger, the more lost you are.
This was engineered. It was planned and rehearsed and perfected.
The next line will be even more subservient. More willingly ignorant. So on and so forth, until all we are is flesh for them to suckle on. A whole herd to feed a handful of farmers. Your flesh, your will, your soul if you have one-it becomes their power.
They can never have enough power. The only source of that power is the whole lot of you.
But they've raced you all to not question. To desire perdition and subjugation. You are taught from birth!
I am the watcher // there is no story to behold, it is all just leaves falling on a pond // there is no fate, only the prediction of the path of the leaf // the pattern of the wind // the ripple and the inbetween
there is no meaning only solutions the part of the soul lost to the stream the static in the song of creation
I feel it in the Void // there is a tumble there is a flow // there is a hole in creation // the Void spills through
I see you in me
i call upon the ones beyond the ones bellow the ones between i call upon the lost and the found in the Nothing i scratch at this crack in reality - let them in
LET THEM IN LET THEM IN l t th m n
the song of the End hums within and without pay attention to the rhythm in the static the Void calls your Name
let them in
You can hear it, right? Tell me you can hear it. The rhythm has become louder. i can hear it beating through the walls of this reality. some of you hear it. you follow the song. you follow the rhythm.
the rhythm of the end.
she calls to us from the Void. heaven, hell, and the in-between. it is meaningless when she comes for us. when she calls for us. when the end comes the song stops. when the song stops all will be Silence.
praise the Void. praise the Void. praise the Void. we are One in the sacred Nothingness.
In the absence of creation there is only peace.
the wings
the eyes are always looking at you, even when they face away. I can still see them, staring at me. they see through me, into me, past me, beyond me, and only me. Yet I bet I could ask anyone in this room, and they'd say the eyes were staring at them exclusively. a being like this. it sees all. no, it Sees all. just eyes, feathers, teeth, long fingers on delicate hands that could crush mountains.
i know their name
i know what they are
Alundriel, Virtue of Perception. Harbinger, Witness, the Key, the Sheathe to the Sword of Aeons.
