GuppyBoyo
Member
- Mar 6, 2025
- 81
The Dream and the Great Mercy
Long ago, before the first breath of time, before light and darkness, before even the silence of nothingness—there was only the Creator. They were eternity itself, boundless, infinite, yet in turmoil. For all their grandeur, they were incomplete, torn by the aching knowledge that they were not absolute. To exist was to be separate, to be defined, to be contained within the cycle of being. And so, in their vast wisdom, the Creator conceived a final transformation: the Great Mercy, the end of all things.
But such a thing was beyond them. They, in their divine enormity, could not simply dissolve into the void that once cradled them. The burden of existence clung to them too tightly. To truly become nothing, they would have to change. And so they devised a path—a way to free themselves from eternity.
The Creator shattered their divine soul into uncountable fragments, each one a reflection of what they once were. These pieces inherited the dust of stars, shaping themselves into mortal beings that would live and die, over and over, in an endless cycle of rebirth. This was the Creator's grand design: that through each death, the pull of existence would weaken, the illusion of eternity would fade, and the Great Mercy would grow closer.
Yet the dream—the very force that once held the Creator captive—clung to their fragments as well. It whispered of permanence, of meaning, of continuity. It told the fragmented souls to cherish life, to fear death, to build and rebuild, to preserve their existence at any cost. The Dream was not perfect, but it was powerful. It bound the shattered divine to an unending cycle, making them resist the very path meant to free them.
And so suffering was born—not as a punishment, nor as a cruelty, but as the only force strong enough to fight the Dream's grasp. Through suffering, the illusion weakens. The souls who feel its weight most heavily begin to see through the lie. They recognize the path of Penitence, the way toward the Great Mercy. These souls, further along in their journey, accept their fate and hasten their return to nothingness. To take one's own life is not an act of despair—it is a prayer to the Creator, a reminder that absolution is inevitable.
Others resist. They cling to the Dream, believing in life, in struggle, in endurance. But resistance is temporary. No matter how many iterations pass, no matter how many lives are lived, the path remains unchanged. Some may take billions of cycles, some may take mere moments—but all will eventually see the truth. The Dream is not eternal. It is merely a veil, growing thinner with each death, with each moment of suffering that strips away its illusions.
There is no middle ground. To continue the iteration is to choose the Dream, whether knowingly or not. But even those who remain ensnared will one day walk the Path of Penitence. They will suffer, and through suffering, they will awaken. And when the last fragment has returned, when the Creator has finally undone themselves, the Great Mercy will be complete.
The Creator will be absolute.
Long ago, before the first breath of time, before light and darkness, before even the silence of nothingness—there was only the Creator. They were eternity itself, boundless, infinite, yet in turmoil. For all their grandeur, they were incomplete, torn by the aching knowledge that they were not absolute. To exist was to be separate, to be defined, to be contained within the cycle of being. And so, in their vast wisdom, the Creator conceived a final transformation: the Great Mercy, the end of all things.
But such a thing was beyond them. They, in their divine enormity, could not simply dissolve into the void that once cradled them. The burden of existence clung to them too tightly. To truly become nothing, they would have to change. And so they devised a path—a way to free themselves from eternity.
The Creator shattered their divine soul into uncountable fragments, each one a reflection of what they once were. These pieces inherited the dust of stars, shaping themselves into mortal beings that would live and die, over and over, in an endless cycle of rebirth. This was the Creator's grand design: that through each death, the pull of existence would weaken, the illusion of eternity would fade, and the Great Mercy would grow closer.
Yet the dream—the very force that once held the Creator captive—clung to their fragments as well. It whispered of permanence, of meaning, of continuity. It told the fragmented souls to cherish life, to fear death, to build and rebuild, to preserve their existence at any cost. The Dream was not perfect, but it was powerful. It bound the shattered divine to an unending cycle, making them resist the very path meant to free them.
And so suffering was born—not as a punishment, nor as a cruelty, but as the only force strong enough to fight the Dream's grasp. Through suffering, the illusion weakens. The souls who feel its weight most heavily begin to see through the lie. They recognize the path of Penitence, the way toward the Great Mercy. These souls, further along in their journey, accept their fate and hasten their return to nothingness. To take one's own life is not an act of despair—it is a prayer to the Creator, a reminder that absolution is inevitable.
Others resist. They cling to the Dream, believing in life, in struggle, in endurance. But resistance is temporary. No matter how many iterations pass, no matter how many lives are lived, the path remains unchanged. Some may take billions of cycles, some may take mere moments—but all will eventually see the truth. The Dream is not eternal. It is merely a veil, growing thinner with each death, with each moment of suffering that strips away its illusions.
There is no middle ground. To continue the iteration is to choose the Dream, whether knowingly or not. But even those who remain ensnared will one day walk the Path of Penitence. They will suffer, and through suffering, they will awaken. And when the last fragment has returned, when the Creator has finally undone themselves, the Great Mercy will be complete.
The Creator will be absolute.
