The elected is always a plunderer, as was Verres. Que eres quien eres. As am I, as are we. And have always been, to remain. Where matters little. The universe is one and many. And so are we. For the light is indeed fragmented. But what is the light, if not the soul?
Two court martials ahead, or more. And we feed belts, feverishly, change incandescent barrels, burning in freezing wastes. They just keep coming. 
The Event Horizon was a door to hell, ours is bleak, and we can well see, well foretell, what awaits for us to further contend. Que eres quien eres. You are who you are, as am I, as are we.

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