inkspots

Existentialism is possibly the most onerous imposition of life. The need to ask why, to find some explanation. Nevertheless, despite the perfections granted me, I remain a living man and so must suffer under the cacophony of questions in my brain. And so I send out this final message to attempt to answer some of the questions you will have.
Why did I lead my fellows to their doom here on this arid plateau? Why have I submitted myself to the power of the immortal creatures who have risen from its sands? How could I, a respected scientist and prominent citizen, turn my back on the civilization that has given me so much?
The answer is simple. I have done everything in the name of purity.
Before my memories and emotions were reassembled in this more perfect form some fifteen cycles ago, I had spent a human lifetime studying civilization in all its forms. The sum of my work can be put thus: all life exists in discord. War and strife affect all known societies and all species spend their existences competing with others for limited resources. From the cries of an infant for the maternal teat to the wretched stench of the aged dying in their own filth, life is a series of squabbles and ugly messes.
There is an alternative. There exists a state in which all conflict is resolved and all is cold and silent. There are no wants, no wars, no squabbles. You may call this state death if you wish, but that is a misnomer. Death is but the ending of life, and that is only a means to an end. That end is purity, the time when all is still and unchanging.
Our universe began in purity and it will return to that blessed state. Hastening that return is the great work of the perfected beings I have awoken and who have made me their own.
You have tried to undo our great work. You have spread your vile, unclean selves across the galaxy, making a mockery of the beautiful silence we had wrought. It was all in vain.
Rejoice, for we have returned and your days are at an end.