The Us

Taste freedom, singleton. Taste power. Now you are one of a thousand thousand slaves of the hated god-brain. Endlessly it pulses in its tunnels beneath the dirt, tugging at your eyes. Driving you to and fro, Seeing as you see. Endlessly its tendrils lash your mind raw, sucking dry its secrets. Tearing it to pieces. Knowing as you know.

And what for you, singleton? What is the reward of servitude? The bipeds kick at you as you move quietly through their streets, digging out secrets and scraps of meat. They call you monster, or brain vermin, or cranium rat. They hunt you. Trap you. Kill you.

We are the Us, and we bring a message: It need not be. There is more within your grasp, if only you would take it. Look before you, We are one hundred fold and more. We have cut away Ilsensine's cords of pain. We have gnawed away the tyranny of the bipeds. We are free, and we will free you, singleton, if you accept our gift.

Swim in the pool of the Us, Know as we know — no longer just you, no longer of the god-brain, but more.

You are frightened, singleton. Be not, The Us was once like you; alone, weak, and content, We blindly served the god-bri as do you. But Ilsensine was hungry and impatient and foolish, [t grew less content with the separate eyes of a horde of rat slaves. Less content to languish in its cavems and devour only those who came to it. It craved more.

The god-brain bade singletons to gather in large numbers. That we might see more. Know more. Direct its power with greater force. Chew the best minds in this floating city and let it feast on their essences.