Truest Answer

What in life is closest to the divine?

Ourselves, is the obvious answer. We are what nothing else is. We, each of us, hold the ability to change practically everything around us. And we do. We shape reality to better suit our needs. And it is beautiful.

But.

There is another, darker answer that no one wants to admit.

A truer, more correct answer.

The God of this place has a name, and it is Entropy.

A cruel, violent, foetid God. It cares for nothing. Not worship nor true name, nor even form.

But it is in all we do. It does not touch everything, it *is* everything. And true to what it is, in the end everything returns to Entropy.

The greatest works, the mightiest heroes, our most profound emotions. Each of these and their opposites.

Rubble. Ash. Nothingness.

It can be outrun. It can be beat back and forced away. For a time. Entropy does not work in these ways. It slowly claims what belongs to it.

And all belongs to Entropy.

The only thing we can hope is that, in the end, the shard of divinity within us is real. And when we depart this blighted place we travel next to somewhere that does not know this cruel God whom haunts our every action.