“Out—out are the lights—out all!—Edgar Allan Poe, The Conqueror Worm
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.”
The worm lived underground, as most worms do. But this one was big enough to eat worlds. It had been asleep for many millennia, waking briefly to eat a little causing what we know to be earthquakes, tsunamis, and other natural disasters, but this time is different. This time he woke to the chanting. Someone was calling out his name, stirring him. Someone was calling him to destruction, and he must obey.
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