Healing is not relief; it is possession. Knowledge is not triumph; it is invasion.
The body, once pliant, is no longer yours.
The mind, once solitary, is no longer yours.
Every heartbeat is an echo of forces you cannot name, every thought a corridor through which some alien presence walks.
And yet, the miracle compels you to continue, to live, to marvel.
And in that marvel lies the terror, the exquisite, unrelenting terror, of knowing that life itself is no longer your own, but a canvas for currents that move unseen, endless, and merciless.
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