Issue 29, Page 30
on Friday, October 24, 2025
Transcript:
1: She streaks across the distorted landscape, seen from above. She leaves a trail of distorted flesh in her wake, crystalline structures and boils of black flesh bursting and blossoming into bundles of hair.
2: She dives off the ledge that leads towards the main chamber of the temple where silver spears had impaled the bulk of the mass.
3: Kenazil stands on the bulk of the mass, tugging at it in her mouth as she feasts. Her body is framed by the two massive silver spears and, below her, the mass of the black matter writhes and screams.
She’s eating good tonight!
Okay I don’t know if Rebecca reads these, but just in case, that last splash panel is absolute art.
And I say this having seen plenty of hers over a long time now. That is an exceptional piece of work.
So the cancer has come to devour the last of the healthy mind. Such is this tragedy.
Have we all forgotten this is a setting where souls are plankton to larger cosmic predators? Everyone’s afterlife in this setting amounts to ‘Where am I? CHOMP!’ Joining into a singular cosmic entity is SURVIVAL. This radiation is keeping them from organizing into a multi-cellar organism and thus keeping them at the bottom of the food chain! They’re enforcing their own doom!
Typical little mortal behavior; thinking their minuscule individualities are worth preserving; thinking the darkness hasn’t been eternally existing before them and won’t eternally exist after them; never remembering that they’re mere passengers with no control whatsoever
Baby mortals *never want* to empathize with deities
*thinks of Jesus’ public execution, and how most people pray only when they want something rather than give thanks for what they have or just to commune with the divine*
I guess you’re right.
*Torturing* Melissa wasn’t really helping the Black Idol’s case (in regards to trying to win empathy).
My child, your statement inherently stands on its own. Though–in the same vein as your line of thought–, try telling professionals such as animal behaviorists to stop having empathy for creatures that are merely lashing out from pain and fear (as opposed to instantly, perfectly knowing how to say “I have trauma and need help!” in human languages).
Every thing is capable of communication, and inherently deserves that its observers have the maturity to decipher it–regardless of how much it offends your entitled mortal ego.
A person choosing to speak to me; a rabbit choosing to flee from me; a wolf choosing to kill me–all different forms of communication, regardless of whether or not they know any better.