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With the I'll premeditated inception of a forbidden junction, thoroughly dissect man's aesthetic capacity to cultivate destruction.
Corporeal makers have condoned all ramifications and doomed our dimensions.
Reviled are those who choose to metamorphose.
Fixed frames are imperiled by the amalgamation of the inferior arthropod with the superior human being.
Witness sapience wane as we clinch the fashion of chitinous exoskeletons.
If the author of perfection is responsible for the conception of multifarious vermins, does that make such divine
Creator a monster?
Whether wrought by higher grace or shaped by nameless energy, only humanity can be held liable for its calloused achievements.
We are the vile chief denizens and catalysts of our own consumption; the ones proliferating in ruin.
The eradication of subsistence will be realized by our own hands.