Sermon of gluttony: Nidus, the Progenitor

Historians of the empire would have you believe that the height of the Old War was the
turning point of our entire way of life.
Was it truly?
Nay, for that was simply a lie! Built upon the pillars of falsehood that brought us up.
We thought we ended the Sentients. We believed we preserved the Empire.
We construed ourselves as masters of fate, but our folly would never be revealed to us until
it was too late.
My name is irrelevant, but our purpose is not.
If the Entrati are guardians we are watchers of the lot.
This is not my tale, but my purpose is quite clear.
I speak for those who were and are no longer here
But know this, none are exempt from sin.
Not monsters, not animals, not even our own kin.
We were the Ouroboros, the long-lost twin.
With monstrosities born from our faults that lies within.
A lexicon will tell you that drowning is the submersion in, and inhalation of water, but we
know the truth.
We’re drowning in sadness and loneliness and despair
In grief.
In isolation
In self-loathing
We're drowning in our thoughts, we’re drowning in our desires.
And emotion
And passion
In anxiety
In darkness.
In depression.
We're drowning in fallen dreams, regrets, mistakes.
We are drowning.
You are drowning.
I am drowning.
And there’s not a drop of water in sight.
We thought ourselves better, did we not?
Our skin, unwanted by rot!
Our souls, wishing for naught!
Our world, paradise with no second thought!
But we were only lying to ourselves, for we were becoming intoxicated with our own image,
Far before the Old War,
But none would listen to me.
I tried reasoning, bargaining, pleading, hoping for somebody, anybody to save us from
ourselves.
But no one did, and they never saw me again.
They cast me out and cut me open, looking for the answer to the problem, that was me.
But what was there for them to see?
They cut, because they could see me slowly fading away.
They cut, because I knew things will never be okay.
They cut, because my heart would be forever broken.
They cut, trying to hide all the thoughts that remained unspoken.
They cut, trying to kill me inside.
They cut, until they cast me aside.
They cut, and I feel alone.
They cut, and no end has been shown.
They cut, and it feels so right.
They cut, and the scarlet blood shines so bright…
Trapped in a pit, so cruel and vile
Harsh twisted sorrows, Lies told by the world.
Trapped in a cage, so bitter and icy
Lies cut into my skin, carved into my mind.
Trapped inside my head, so bent and dark
Bitter sweet nightmares, demons unfurling
Trapped inside a clouded mind, so evil and fake
Bleeding out abandonment, longing to belong.
Trapped inside a nightmare, crying for meaning.
Longing to be wanted somewhere, bleeding to feel something
Trapped inside hell, wanting an escape
Knowing I have no chance in ending my so-called life.

I can’t escape.
It’s getting hard to breathe.
Darkness is overcoming me.
I can’t speak.
When I try, nothing comes out.
It holds me down
It keeps me here.
It will soon take me.
I am broken.
I am trapped.
There’s no one to hear me cry

And suddenly, an answer came to me.

No, not an answer : a monster.
It gazed upon me with a nonexistent eye, as if thinking about whether I should live, or die.
It came closer, until I could witness it’s mesh;
This was not a monster, but an existence of Infested flesh.
logic escaped me. In its place, I heard a wisper.

“Empty.”

Empty is us, even you, and me, and accepting things that will never be.
Empty is the regret, guilt and shame, of never speaking your name.
Empty is a puzzle, a most difficult choice, and forgetting the sound of your voice.
Empty is the frail thread which hopelessness grips,
and craving freedom, but only an eclipse.
Empty is the cold malice of winter’s cruel bite, cast over all, an all-consuming blight.
Empty is the void inside the abyss that knows it’s you that won’t be missed
Empty is the desert longing for rain, thinking it could ease all its pain
Empty is the shadow cast by the sun, that believes it was the one.
Empty is a monster, beckoning sin
Empty is lying, we know where you’ve been.
Empty is the end, life’s bitter conclusion
This is our promise, it was all an illusion.
Empty is the night that never sees dawn.
But I will take you, and you shall never be gone.

This monster snared me into itself.

Could I resist? No.
My will was nowhere to be found.
Tendrils tore me apart, sinew from bone,
Assuring me that I would never again be alone.
Whatever pain was left made itself disappear,
But even with a faultering mind, broken soul and morphing body,
My purpose had never been so clear.
The whisper returned, piercing me like a spear.
But it was not just a whisper now, but a chorus of voices, which all sounded austere:

“Consume.”

Consume the ones that disowned you

Consume the world that abandoned you
Consume the lies that polluted you
Consume the being that constricted you
Consume the soul that defined you
Consume the mind that bedeviled you
Consume the pain that claimed you
Consume the sorrow that embraced you
Consume the hatred that shadowed you
Consume the fear that plagued you
Consume the self that cursed you
Consume the love that left you.
I understood them.
We were the embodiment of voracity,
and we would consume the blight that was the Empire,
And our world.
My voice joined the chorus of the ones that came before,
Of beings that were not less, but somehow more.
The words come from underneath my skin,
“I, am Nidus. And gluttony is our sin
And I am where all shall begin.”
Historians of the empire would have you
believe that the height of the Old War was
the turning point of our entire way of life.
Was it truly?
Nay, for that was simply a lie! Built upon the
pillars of falsehood that brought us up.
We thought we ended the Sentients. We
believe we preserved the Empire.
We construed ourselves as masters of fate,
but our folly would never be revealed to us
until it was too late.
My name is irrelevant, but our purpose is
not.
If the Entrati are guardians we are watchers
of the lot.
This is not my tale, but my purpose is quite
clear.
I speak for those who were and are no
longer here
But know this, none are exempt from sin.
Not monsters, not animals, not even our
own kin.
We were the Ouroboros, the long-lost twin.
With monstrosities born from our faults
that lies within.
A lexicon will tell you that drowning is the
submersion in, and inhalation of water, but
Les historiens vous feraient croire que le
plus fort de la Vieille Guerre fut la charnière
de notre mode de vie.
Mais l’était-ce vraiment ?
Non, car il s’agissait d’un mensonge,
construit sur les pilliers de défiance qui
nous ont élevés.
Nous pensions avoir détruit les sentients.
Nous pensions avoir sauvé l’empire.
Nous nous voyions comme les maîtres du
destin, et notre folie ne nous sera révélée
que trop tard.
Mon nom est accessoire, mais mon but ne
l’est pas.
Si les Entrati sont les gardiens, nous
sommes les veilleurs du troupeau.
Ceci n’est pas mon histoire, mais mon rô le
est clair
Je parle pour ceux qui jamais plus ne
pourront faire
Sachez cependant, aucun n’est exempt du
péché
Pas de monstres ou d’animaux, pas même
nos propres parents
Nous étions l’Ouroboros, le jumeau perdu
Avec les monstres nés de nos fautes cachées
Un lexique vous diras que la noyade est la
we know the truth.
We’re drowning in sadness and loneliness
and despair
In grief.
In isolation
In self-loathing
We're drowning in our thoughts, we’re
drowning in our desires.
And emotion
And passion
In anxiety
In darkness.
In depression.
We're drowning in fallen dreams, regrets,
mistakes.
We are drowning.
You are drowning.
I am drowning.
And there’s not a drop of water in sight.
We thought ourselves better, did we not?
Our skin, unwanted by rot!
Our souls, wishing for naught!
Our world, paradise with no second
thought!
But we were only lying to ourselves, for we
will become intoxicated with our own
image,
Far before the Old War,
But none would listen to me.
I tried reasoning, bargaining, pleading,
hoping for somebody, anybody to save us
from ourselves.
But no one did, and they never saw me
again.
They cast me out and cut me open, looking
for the answer to the problem, that was me.
But what was there for them to see?
They cut, because they could see me slowly
fading away.
They cut, because I knew things will never
be okay.
They cut, because my heart would be
forever broken.
They cut, trying to hide all the thoughts that
remained unspoken.
They cut, trying to kill me inside.
They cut, until they cast me aside.
They cut, and I feel alone.
They cut, and no end has been shown.
They cut, and it feels so right.
submersion et l’inhalation d’eau, mais nous
connaissons la vérité
Nous nous noyons dans la tristesse, la
solitude et le désespoir.
Dans le deuil
Dans l’isolation
Dans la haine de soi
Nous nous noyons dans nos pensées, nous
nous noyons dans nos désirs
Dans nos émotions
Dans nos passions
Dans l’anxiété
Dans la dépression
Nous nous noyons dans nos rêves brisés,
nos regrets, nos erreurs.
Nous nous noyons
Tu te noies
Je me noie
Et il n’y a pas une goutte d’eau à l’horizon
Nous nous pensions meilleur que cela, n’est-
ce pas ?
Notre peau, rejetée par la putréfaction !
Nos âmes, pleinement satisfaites !
Notre monde, un paradis sans concessions !
Mais nous mentions seulement a nous-
même, intoxiqués que nous étions par notre
propre image.
Bien avant la vieille guerre
Mais personne ne souhaitait m’écouter.
J’ai tenté de raisonner, de marchander, de
supplier, espérant pour que quelqu’un,
n’importe qui, nous sauve de nous-même.
Mais personne ne le fit, et on ne me vit plus
jamais.
Ils m’ont chassé et m’ont ouvert, cherchant
la réponse au problème que j’étais.
Mais que pouvaient ils trouver ?
Ils incisent, me voyant lentement
disparaitre
Ils incisent, car je savais que les choses ne
s’arrangeraient jamais
Ils incisent, car mon cœur restera pour
toujours brisé
Ils incisent, essayant de cacher toutes les
pensées inexprimées
Ils incisent, pour me tuer intérieurement
Ils incisent, jusqu’à me rejeter entièrement
Ils incisent, et je me sens abandonné
Ils incisent, sans qu’aucune fin ne soit
envisagée
They cut, and the scarlet blood shines so
bright…
Trapped in a pit, so cruel and vile
Harsh twisted sorrows, Lies told by the
world.
Trapped in a cage, so bitter and icy
Lies cut into my skin, carved in to my mind.
Trapped inside my head, so bent and dark
Bitter sweet nightmares, demons unfurling
Trapped inside a clouded mind, so evil and
fake
Bleeding out abandonment, longing to
belong.
Trapped inside a nightmare, crying for a
meaning.
Longing to be wanted somewhere, bleeding
to feel something
Trapped inside hell, wanting an escape
Knowing I have no chance in ending my so-
called life.
I can’t escape.
It’s getting hard to breathe.
Darkness is overcoming me.
I can’t speak.
When I try, nothing comes out.
It holds me down
It keeps me here.
It will soon take me.
I am broken.
I am trapped.
There’s no one to hear me cry
And suddenly, an answer came to me.
No, not an answer : a monster.
It gazed upon me with a nonexistent eye, as
if thinking about whether I should live, or
die.
It came closer, until I could witness it’s
mesh;
This was not a monster, but an existence of
Infested flesh.
logic escaped me. In it’s place, I heard a
wisper.
“Empty.”
Empty is us, even you, and me, and
accepting things that will never be.
Empty is the regret, guilt and shame, of
Ils incisent, et c’est si bon
Ils incisent, et le sang vermeil
Piégé dans une fosse, si cruelle et indigne
Souffrances violentes et étranges,
mensonges soufflés par le monde
Piégé dans une cage, amer et glaciale
Mensonges découpés dans ma peau, gravé
dans mon esprit
Piégé dans ma tête, distordu et sombre,
Cauchemars rances et démons
Piégé dans un esprit brumeux, malfaisant et
feint
Saignant de détresse, désespéré de ressentir
Piégé dans un cauchemar, suppliant pour un
sens
Désespéré d’être désiré quelque part,
scarifié pour ressentir
Piégé en enfer, cherchant une sortie
Privé de la chance de mettre un terme à ma
prétendue vie
Je ne peux m’enfuir
Il devient difficile de respirer
L’obscurité me dévore
Je ne peux parler
Aucun son ne franchit mes levres
Cela me retient
Cela me garde ici
Et bientô t cela me prendra
Je suis brisé
Je suis piégé
Et il n’y personne pour entendre mes
sanglots
Et soudainement, une réponse me parvint
Non, pas une réponse : un monstre
Il me jaugea d’un œil inexistant, se
demandant si je devais vivre ou mourir
Il s’approcha jusqu’à m’exposer ses
entrelacs
Pas un monstre, mais une existance de chair
infestée.
Les mots m’échapperent. Dans mon esprit,
un souffle s’imposa :
« Vide ».
Vide nous sommes, meme toi, et moi, et
accepter les faits qui ne seront jamais.
Vide est le regret, la culpabilité et la honte
never speaking your name.
Empty is a puzzle, a most difficult choice,
and forgetting the sound of your voice.
Empty is the frail thread which
hopelessness grips,
and craving freedom, but only an eclipse.
Empty is the cold malice of winter’s cruel
bite, cast over all, an all-consuming blight.
Empty is the void inside the abyss that
knows it’s you that won’t be missed
Empty is the desert longing for rain,
thinking it could ease all it’s pain
Empty is the shadow cast by the sun, that
believes it was the one.
Empty is a monster, beckoning sin
Empty is lying, we know where you’ve been.
Empty is the end, life’s bitter conclusion
This is our promise, it was all an illusion.
Empty is the night that never sees dawn.
But I will take you, and you shall never be
gone.
This monster snared me into itself.
Could I resist? No.
My will was nowhere to be found.
Tendrils tore me apart, sinew from bone,
Assuring me that I would never again be
alone.
Whatever pain was left made itself
disappear,
But even with a faultering mind, broken
soul and morphing body,
My purpose had never been so clear.
The whisper returned, piercing me like a
spear.
But it was not just a whisper now, but a
chorus of voices, which all sounded austere:
“Consume.”
Consume the ones that disowned you
Consume the world that abandoned you
Consume the lies that polluted you
Consume the being that constricted you
Consume the soul that defined you
Consume the mind that bedeviled you
Consume the pain that claimed you
Consume the sorrow that embraced you
Consume the hatred that shadowed you
Consume the fear that plagued you
Consume the self that cursed you
de ne jamais prononcer ton nom
Vide est l’énigme, le choix des plus difficile,
de ta voix oublier le son
Vide est le fragile lien touché par le
désespoir
Et le désir de liberté, seulement pour un soir
Vide est la froide moquerie de la morsure de
l’hiver, le fléau dévorant
Vide est le gouffre dans l’abysse qui sait, tu
es celui qui ne sera pas manqué
Vide est le désert suppliant pour de la pluie,
présumant un apaisement de toutes ses
plaies
Vide est l’ombre projetée par le soleil,
croyant qu’elle est
Vide est le monstre appelant au péché
Vide est la fin, conclusion amère à la vie
Ceci est notre promesse, ce n’était
qu’illusions.
Vide est la nuit qui ne voit jamais l’aube
Mais je vais te prendre, et jamais tu ne
partiras
Ce monstre me piégea en lui-même.
Aurais-je pu résister ? Non
Ma volonté était introuvable.
Des vrilles me déchirèrent jusqu’aux os,
Me prometant que plus jamais je ne serai
seul
La douleur résiduelle disparaissait,
Mais même l’esprit chancelant, l’â me brisée
et le corps transformé,
Mon role n’avait jamais été aussi clair
Le murmure revint, me perçant tel une
lance
ce n’était plus juste un murmure, mais un
chœur de voix, austères :
« Consume. »
Consume ceux qui t’ont renié
Consume ce monde qui t’a abandonné
Consume les fables qui t’ont pollué
Consume les êtres qui t’ont étouffé
Consume les ames qui t’ont dessiné
Consume les esprits qui t’ont tourmenté
Consume la douleur qui t’a revendiqué
Consume la tristesse qui t’a embrassé
Consume la haine qui t’a pisté
Consume la peur qui t’a harcelé
Consume le soi qui t’a damné
Consume the love that left you.
I understood them.
We were the embodiment of voracity,
and we would consume the blight that was
the Empire,
And our world.
My voice joined the chorus of the ones that
came before,
Of beings that were not less, but somehow
more.
The words come from underneath my skin,
“I, am Nidus. And gluttony is our sin
And I am where all shall begin.”
Consume l’amour qui t’a quitté
Je les ai compris.
Nous étions la personnification de la
voracité et voués a dévorer l’infection
qu’était l’Empire,
et notre monde.
Ma voix joignit le cœur de ceux avant moi,
D’êtres qui n’étaient pas moins, mais encore
plus
Les mots viennent de sous ma peau,
« Je suis Nidus, et l’avidité est
notre péché
Et je suis au centre du renouveau