First Fly Over of the Abyss
Every thousand years or so, give or take a millennium or two, the civil leaves the civilization and what remains is the pitiless and pathetic. From these dregs of the unfortunate few there arises new ideas of what comprises the reality that we see and what is really worth remembering. It is but a time of stone and tears, a slow parade of fire and fears, and from the ashes rises anew, the next coronation of the king or queen, who charges us with zeal and idolatry. I do not believe we have seen this yet, it is closer at hand than we would like it to be, but we are not nearly advanced enough to be on the brink of utter destruction quite yet. I've read the signs and they point to the coast, from which may come a terrible host, full of cheer and good tidings, and yet he appears not to be quite ready to reveal. It is not certain that it will not be the sister we all dread, the ill fated whore from whom we were all bred, or it might be sullen boy who is to be trumpeted as the next
