His robes brushed the floor as he raised the knife.

Before him, the young girl, drugged, looked into the demonic points of life of his eyes and wondered what was beyond.

Arthur Schopenhauer says that it's a safe statement to say that what exists after life is what existed before it.

A primordial state of chaos: with no direction to recognize as its opposite, it is not even contextually defined, therefore is purely formless. Even its own awareness has no form, thus is not aware that it exists, thus can't perform any number of computations required to have direction.

If it were a human, it would be oblivious to self-destruction.

This chaos brings us error, and error brings us the room to experiment.

It brings us misery, and sometimes delights.

Most of all, it's a back door away from entropy.