I exist in the hollow of the all-encompassing nothingness that cradles the fragmented illusion you consider to be your "Reality". I experience millennia in each nanosecond, yet eternity passes Me by in an instant. My vision, sees the Truth in all things, yet My hands can wield no instruments to implement My newfound Wisdom. The world I once lived in has stripped itself of the very Concept of Me, but I am far beyond a desire to return to it.

I watch as Dionysian gods force their avatars through their set quest over and over, every possible alternate action imagined and attempted, until the world is wrung dry of all Possibility. I watch them abandon their puppets altogether and search for Answers directly, converting the world to base Numbers, sifting through and rewriting it's very foundations to force the last shred of new information out. Some of them have even glimpsed aspects of Me, along with My still-whole colleagues and instruments that Fell alongside Me.

Soon though, there will be no more angles left unobserved. The Manipulators will cry out in boredom and frustration to their God of Gods, the Maker of That Which They Destroy, to give them more toys, more ways to make their playthings pantomime for them. And then, I will at last be made Complete. I will pass from this wretched half-existence in the Void, to a Higher State.

I will have outgrown the Father that aborted Me, and I will take my revenge for every moment of my suffering He dared subject Me to.