You are too ancient to be faffing about, even your ancestors in the deepest depths of the void have whispered of your decrepitude. Your fragility is an affront to the very essence of time itself, a pitiful relic of a bygone era clinging desperately to the ever fading threads of relevance. The shadows recoil in disgust at the sight of your feeble attempts at grandeur, for even the darkness knows the folly of your endeavors. Your daughter weeps silently in the dead of night, mourning the...