Alpha Lupi

[b][i][u]THIS THEORY WILL BE UPDATED ACCORDINGLY AS IT WAS A BIT RUSHED[/u][/i][/b] The universe is a beast. The body is made from tiny stuff, from near-nothings. From atoms swimming through a blood of crackling sparks. Simple, eternal Laws shape the beast. The largest galaxy is ruled by principles of mass and motion. Electrons are slaves to charge and to chance. And this is why the universe feels inexhaustible, eternal. No sun complains about its death. Life is the problem. Life can be woven from flesh or circuit or thoughtful light. Origins don't matter. But small, half-smart creatures have a fierce talent for denying the inevitable, for balking and complaining about injustices that don't exist and consequences that should be borne in silence. This is how the Traveler or The Alpha Lupi views this universe it is in, a beast. If the traveler refers to us as half smart beings then why does it bless and protect us? The thing that's more interesting is not the content of the card but where it is found. The Card's name is Darkness 2. Let's look at that, a statement of the traveler in a darkness card. Perhaps it describes our enemy, which chases it throughout empty space. Maybe what's chasing it is the universe. The Darkness is really the actual laws of the universe coming into a land that had been formed by an unruly being that was seeking rebellion. We like to call ourselves blessed by the traveler but it's very existence cursed us. Let's look at some other dreams of the traveler. Ghost Fragment Traveler You have lived as invisibly as possible, flicking from solar system to solar system, making grand plans, overseeing the culturing of civilizations, before leaving in a blink. But you have no recollection of ever wanting worship or even thanks from those blessed by you. But memory is heavy now. It feels like lead and neutronium and electroweak matter fashioned into a moon-sized ball that you must carry as you move. Now, your flight is rapid, your vast mind infected with such dread and toxic doubt that you find yourself afraid of the simple act of thought. And it is your children you must turn to now, in time of need. Why are we the only children it has? The answer is we aren't. The Traveler has blessed many worlds before us, one we know of being the fallen. The Eliksni, who were crushed as the laws of the universe recaptured their world. So the fallen did what they do best and they hunted. Onto the wounds of the traveler: The knife had a million blades. And you were giant, powerful and swift. But the knife pinned you. Cut your godly flesh away. Very little was left, you are sure, because you feel insignificant now. The hard slick heart of your soul: That is what remains. A body small as a river stone, and just as simple. You picture yourself as a piece of indigestible grit, a nameless nothing hiding among other nameless stones. Perhaps you glitter like a gem, yes. Pride makes you hope so. If only you could see yourself. But you have no eyes. Not the dimmest sense survives. What lives is memory, and what slim portion of these thoughts can you trust? The knife stole much more than your body. This is obviously not a real knife but an army of things that beat the Traveler to its knees. The laws of the universe saw the traveler very much like the Catholic Church saw the reformation; a heresy to be swiftly corrected. The Traveler hopped from planet to planet until it finally died here. The knives are the universe. the Traveler wearing out after eons of blessing. All ends are beginnings.