XXXIV: More beautiful to know
Verse 4:4 — More beautiful to know
Sometimes I wonder if I’m a nihilist.
I don’t do much except break things. That’s what they say about me: we could’ve had a great civilization, if it weren’t for that damn Oryx, that damn Hive. They don’t believe in anything but death.
The only way to make something good is to make something that can’t be broken. And the only way to do that is to try to break everything.
I’m glad I learned that the universe runs on death. It’s more beautiful to know.
But I’m lost somewhere strange.
I think that Savathûn and Xivu Arath are trying to steal the tablets from me. They must have cut off my tribute while I was away communing with the Deep. I love them so dearly. No one else is clever or strong enough to try to break me. No one else can give me this gift.
Once, long ago, I killed Xivu Arath on her war moon, and she blew up the whole moon to kill with me her. She was laughing in joy. I laughed too. A whole moon! A whole moon. It was a waste of a moon, but it taught me how to save myself from exploding worlds, which was necessary to fight the Ecumene.
I love mighty Xivu more than a moon loves the tide. I’ll kill her for this. Over and over, forever and ever.
When I get home from my wanderings in the Deep, and I take back my throne, I’m going to have children. That’s what I need.
Sons and daughters to love and kill.