Once upon a time - seconds away in the larger scheme of things - a handful of brilliant monsters took history's lesson to heart and made an unspeakable pact with the devil.
For their vision of Utopian world and life to be possible within the short reach of their own insignificant lifespan, they had to cross the abyss of locked-down minds and interests and bypass every single structure and system in existence.
Not even in disguise, the devil showed its hand - time ruled it all; and the devil too...was time's greatest prisoner. So the brilliant monsters knew that their real struggle, their real and only challenge was time itself, and as such, the only viable strategy they could concoct was the strategy of cheating time.
The monsters knew, within their collective brilliance, that only together they will succeed, and since they were operating from a realm of the absurd and greed for power, they were incapable of being human. Victory, to them, meant the achievement of a lifetime in as short of a time as possible, so everything and everyone became a shortcut; a quicker path to absolute power - by any and all available means. Life itself ended up being the battlefield.
From this unruly marriage, a new god was born, and from the ashes of the old world - the new world is now rising; a world to be rebuild in the image of the absurd, the image of black and white, the image of binary choices, the image of chaos as the foundation of absolute power over everything and everyone alive.
To the minds of the monsters, any choice outside of their limited peripheral vision is an active threat, an element of distress, a trigger leading to their own internal collapse, thus, choices had to die - and the tool to kill choice was brought forth and unleashed upon all minds and all systems, slowly creating a prison through absolute dependency.
The new world in the making, is the mirror image of a war game where dying is a mere "starting over" moment, where one can build and destroy at the same time and with the same emotional detachment, and where the death of all - foes or friends - is tokenized and celebrated. The new world in the making is the amusement park of the absurd. Its final vision, its endgame is nothing short of glorious, yet the cost of reaching it is a mere statistic. This is a world of monstrous multi-players, and only the monsters have and grant the license to exist within it.
The rest of the world, the real us, have been pushed to the limit of reason, forced to live within the constraints of the inevitability of the rising new world, not punished for being but expected to fade out as quietly as possible. Just like our breath, the new rising world is autonomous. To unplug it is to die - a sacrifice which a species evolved to endure is incapable of collectively and voluntarily making. To the monsters, the survival of the rest of humanity is entirely irrelevant. To the monsters, the only thing of relevance is their endgame - the pact they made to build a new and better world for the very few who remain alive enough to submit to the new emerging interface built to isolate humanity from reality.
Once a upon not long ago, the monsters understood the old game and concluded - quite logically in fact - that a pact with the devil was the best path to their victorious endgame of an absurd vision. The price paid in human lives is a price only for the sane and the compassionate; for the monsters themselves it is merely an irrelevant yet ultimately welcomed line of code within their design.
These are the times when the old gods fall. These are the times when the new gods rise. These are the times when the old world burns. These are the times when the new world emerges in the image of its new masters.
The End.
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