My life is a jumble. I remember my childhood as an apprentice in the Alittu Monastery, and my work with Ahnket in the field, then my death-

No, I lived again under a different sky. And then again, in a tiny universe where we were giants. And again where matter had the consistency of cheese. Over and over I am reborn.

I have the memory of being an expedition leader. And then always the memory of an apocalypse at the end. The Cosmos is burned, a reality is stolen so that these new gods- no, these Ascended can live.

But I think there is dissension in the ranks. I talked to an odd man the other day. He said my strings had been cut, and I could work to stop this cycle of destruction. If not that cycle, then perhaps the next. I abandoned the sham of my life and began to search for a place known as Uttila, and here it was!

This destruction, this cosmic infanticide is monstrous. It has to stop! I have to make it stop! I have been complicit in it. I have studied these realities, for epochs, learned to love these varieties of universes, and then watched them die. I feel the horror of it, but I’m- I’m part of the thing that does that, my thoughts are her thoughts, how is this possible?

Are you one of the Ascended of Telara? We need your help. But we worry about you in the same way. When you save Telara, when will you release your grip on it?