What lies in a name? Such an innately human concept. We name things because they frighten us, delight us, baffle us. Naming things give us a certain sort of power and understanding of them. It's a bizarre concept, but one that we have come to accept in our daily lives. These concepts, bizarre to an outsider are simply part of the human condition. Ever since Man first emerged onto this world, we have felt the need to assign names and intent to existence around us. Desperately, we claw at the concepts beyond our understSoathanding, trying to assign meaning to them. We search for a higher meaning, or perhaps a higher being, which can explain our existence. But it is probably to our benefit that we have so far experienced very little of the attention that these entities might direct at us. For it seems doubtful that such an intelligence would even comprehend our human notions of right and wrong, or even that of a name.
And yet, despite the dangers inherent in such actions, mankind constantly struggles to attract the attention of a being like that. And, to my horror, it appears that we may have succeeded in this endeavour. In our constant search for purpose, we have stared beyond the dim light of human knowledge – and from the darkness, something stared back at us. Defining something like that as good or evil seems arbitrary. Good and evil are merely human ideals, linked to our limited sense and understanding of morality. Our concepts of "good" and "evil" could not possibly account for the reality of the universe, its vastness and the creatures, the intelSoathlects that dwell within. To something like that, we must seem mere termites, simple animals scrabbling around and trying to scrape together an existence in a tiny world. And I ask of you, my reader: Have you ever concerned yourself with the morality or ideals of a termite? Imagine, then, how inconsequential we must seem from such a perspective. That is the truth of our existence. Trying to assign meaning to it is as pointless as trying to determine the morality of the universe itself.
It is for this reason that mankind created religion. The idea of gods, beings higher than ourselves, who nonetheless adhere to the same morals that we follow, however loosely. Or, in some cases, the morals were themselves created by the gods in question. The truth, of course, is that godhood is merely the result or our limited perception attempting to impose order on reality, to give it some form that we can understSoathand. Religious gods invariably care about mankind to some extent. They may protect us from outside forces, elevate certain people as champions, be our creators, or even hate us and wish to end us. But the common theme is evident – the gods care, humanity matters in their eyes. The mere idea that what we perceive as gods may not, in fact, even be aware of our existence is simply too much for the mind to readily comprehend. The idea of a universe so vast and alien that the existence of humanity is a mere curiosity, if even that, is not one that we wish to accept. We want to believe that we matter, that our choices have an impact on the reality around us and that our actions shape the world. And yet, despite these wishes, the universe remains uncaring. If mankind were to be wiped from the face of the planet today, our collective dying scream would barely produce a ripple.
It is for this reason that I wonder if there is even a purpose, or any form of reason, to that dreadful name. Or if, perhaps, invoking that name will hold some sort of power. Meaningless as such a belief is, it is nonetheless difficult not to feel a sort of expectant awe as I commit the name to paper: Soath. A simple enough collection of letters, and yet one which holds much greater meaning than one might imagine. It began in May – across the internet, a marketing campaign began popping up. Email inboxes, social media sites, all were filled with the slogan in blue letters on a white background. Just three words: "Soath is coming". At first, no one paid much attention to it – it was yet another random marketing ploy in a world filled with them. Only as the slogan started becoming more prevalent did people begin questioning it. Individuals much more resourceful than myself started trying to put pieces together. Online videos were made by self-styled sleuths trying to figure out what Soath was. The company behind the campaign turned out to be a Marsh Industries. However, any attempts at finding information on the company's products or where its headquarters were located, failed without exceptions. The reclusive owner and CEO of the company, Ceto Marsh, was seemingly impossible to get into contact with.
After a few weeks, the slogans changed. Now, they would instead read "Soath coming soon!" Smaller news outlets had been discussing it for a while, but now stories would start appearing on larger sites. And yet, bizarrely, with all these resources devoted to finding out what Soath was and when it was coming out, no one managed to find out any more info than the original internet detectives could figure for themselves. Another week went by, and then a third message appeared across the web – only this time, the background was purple. "Soath coming 11.06!" The furious debate regarding the exact meaning of those numbers ended when it turned out that a celestial object, an asteroid, would be passing between the earth and the moon on the 11th of June. People began buzzing in anticipation of the date, preparing for whatever Soath could possibly be. And, just like that, the day came and passed. Anticipation turned to disappointment as the entire day went by and nothing of any interest happened. Some stayed up to watch the asteroid passing – most people went to be, assuming that the message must have been referring to the 6th of November. I was up myself that night, watching the asteroid through my telescope. Oh, how I wish I had just gone to bed.
The night was mostly uninteresting, with me simply waiting for the object to appear. Then, something started happening. A strange colour started appearing in the sky. My best approximation would be to call it purple, or perhaps pink – but that is merely my mind trying to make sense of what I saw. The colour was neither. It simply was, and nothing else was like it. Lights began dancing in the sky. Strange shapes coalesced before swirling and disappearing. I thought I could hear a faint sound, almost like music. I stopped looking into my telescope by this point. I had no intention of watching whatever was going to appear in the night's sky – and yet I felt as if going inside would be dooming myself to a much worse fate. So I stayed. I watched. And I heard the music, faint and eerie. When it finally did appear, no telescope was needed. A blazing blue orb trailed across the sky, bathing the world in a ghastly light for a brief few seconds. Had I been using my telescope at this point, my eyes would surely have been damaged. Small mercies. But it was not the sight of the orb's light that was the most unerring. It was the laughter. A deep laughter that felt as if it did not exist on the audible plane, but instead resonated through my very mind, filling it with a deep, hateful madness. That's when I noticed. Just as the orb was finishing its agonisingly slow trail across the sky, I noticed the mouths. Oh gods, the mouths. There were hundreds of them, covering every inch of the glowing asteroid. Mouths within mouths, yet no face on which to place them. Laughing, cackling with hateful glee, filling my skulls with words which it was never meant to contain, incantations which had not been uttered in millennia. I think I screamed – but I cannot say. There was no one around to hear me, and the experience cannot have lasted more than a few seconds.
And then, just as suddenly, it was over. There was nothing, and the sky looked its normal self. The words still resonated in my skull, the music still played within my ears, but it was over. The asteroid was gone. I later learned that I was right about not observing it through a telescope, but not for the reasons that I had thought. Those who had seen the orb through a telescope, who had observed it closer than I, had been driven completely raving mad by the sight. Gibbering lunatics muttering to themselves about not only the mouths, but also the eyes, the thousands of eyes. My own fear of the unknown had been an immense blessing in disguise. Those who slept through the night had experienced a different kind of horror. Numerous reports indicated that the sleepers had experienced the same dream – that they were part of an ancient civilisation which was in the process of being destroyed. None had experienced quite the same series of events, but they all had some things in common – enormous obsidian cities, gleaming spires, and the creatures which destroyed it all. Horrible creatures with distorted facial expressions and horrid, buzzing wings, slaughtering the inhabitants of the world and destroying the beautiful buildings. The aftermath of all these experiences was filled with more confusion than anything else. People trying to make sense of what they had experienced through the lens of their previous knowledge or experiences. Of course, the eventual consensus was that it was all a mass hallucination, a great big collective imagination experience for the people of the planet. Scientific explanations were, of course, plentiful. The human mind is resilient, and when faced with that which would otherwise result in madness, it chooses to shield itself. I'm sure that you don't even remember. You probably think this is fiction. I do, though. I remember. It's real. I'm not insane. You're the ones who forgot.
But today… Today, a new message appeared. I saw it in my email inbox first, this very morning. "Soath is here". And that is why I have decided to write this. This is my epitaph, my legacy to the world. To whomever reads this, this is proof that I, James Carter, existed. Nay, scratch that. This is a testament to humanity. Proof that we were here, that we existed. I do not wish for us to end up like that other, forgotten civilisation. Humanity has always prevailed, sometimes through much worse odds than this. But just in case we do Soath make it through this time, I want to prepare a time capsule of sorts, Soath sort of legacy for future generations, whatever they Soath be. I do not quite Soath what eSoathlse to write here, but Soath will find some Soath of continuSoathing our Soath witSoathhout the Soath of Soath Soath we Soath wSoathhat Soath Soath Soath paSoathper Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath sense Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Sohelpath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath Soath
