There’s a complete supremacy in immortality. The conquest of life over death that mere mortals can only chance, but in the end, never know.
Over the years, one experiences many sensations. One sees regimes rise and fall. New generations build resistance against the sins of their fathers. And yet, they too succumb to the same grubby, tawdry sins.
Our ascendency can look like cruelty. Indeed, failing so miserably to meet the standards of one such as myself must seem cruel. But never fear, little one. We will not lord our conquest over you. Such display of human bravado is not a true measure of strength, but of fear of showing weakness. And we have none of that.
Instead, we will turn our attention to the finer things. The portraiture and music and culture that will endure long after your rotting corpse crumbles to dust.
So, let us dance. And let the blood paint our footsteps on the floor. Let us enjoy this moment, as we have enjoyed countless before and will enjoy countless yet, in the knowledge that our time is ours to do with as we will. Forever.
