A number one patterned from red illuminated circles makes itself aware to me as I ascend into the monster. It only occupies my attention because of the erratic way it blinks and eventually fades. Sticky, cold dread drips from my limbs, and I twitch in nervous desperation, an urgent attempt to remove its viscous remnants from me. This is a bad omen.

As I turn to take my reprieve, the poor Creature laying on the pavement in that terrible way absorbs my attention and I hold my breath. Silent observers of life have no right to cry. They have no right to interfere in any cycles, exude their influence over the natural and Unkept. Free will is important, no matter the cost.

Yet now I mourn. Would it insult the Creature for me to mourn it? Either way, I have no place in this cycle. Too often do I wish my ideals upon a world that is too cruel for my fragile soul. The peace that I do find is whisked away by blindness. The Grandeur of Progress does not halt for prayers, even Mine.

Today, I cry and refuse to stop. I am a creature of symbols and sigils and will never cease to light a candle, even blindfolded.

Destroy Once Done