I contain within me the sum of potential evil deliverable by all mankind; I can feel it, there, lurking just beneath the surface. Like a thick, black, oily sludge just waiting to bubble up through the cracks in my exterior. I am a veritable toxic waste dump; Love Canal's got nothing on me.
My unbridled imagination can effortlessly conceive of horrors that would make most shiver and sweat and quail with nausea; sometimes it does so of its own accord, and I am subject to those very feelings. Yes, I can actually scare myself, unbidden. The gods saw fit to gift-curse me with a conscience, and have tempered me through fire so that I might have some chance to contain the horrors, the thoughts, the impulses. Some chance. Humans think they can build a storage facility in Yucca Mountain that will last for 10,000 years; I am doubtful.
I should probably be destroyed preemptively for the good of all.
It's funny how they tend to turn out to be the quiet, unassuming, hardly noticeable ones. There are reasons I try to be noticed; it is how I shake fate. Rage is easy; darkness is much harder...
"I can think of ways to kill you that will take years, but have you screaming for mercy within the first few minutes..." - Avatar, Wizards
Good fortune,
- Icarus is the darkness staring back at you...
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Please forgive me if, in the heat of battle, I sometimes forget which side I'm on.