Like the inside of a geode, full of sharp purple crystals, this is the land where we reside. In the center of it all, where lies the only bastion of civilization, in the town of OffTopic. Our time spent fighting the encroaching darkness. But today, today the Deep is silent. The obnoxious tentacles are only a dusty memory. I walk shoeless in the darkness, the crystals cutting my feet, my blood running to no effect, the crystals remain dead. I call softly “Speaker, are you there” and get no answer. I shed a tear and watch it drop on the soil, waiting for a spark, nothing. I shout in rage to the purple skies “SPEAKER!”, still no answer. The Deep is dead. The mind behind the construct gone.