Direction

A proud ship if ever there was one. It plows effortlessly through the cracked earth, golden prow curving majestically into the sky. Its splendor is matched only by its enormity. And it is moving quickly, in fact it has been only minutes since you noticed its bulk peer around the horizon and already it seems as though it is right on top of you. It is pride, it is arrogance, it is light. You hate it. It is your antithesis, your enemy. You know this with every cell in your body. Your greatest adversary rests aboard that ship. This is their great work, this is their symbol. And it is inexorably and unstoppably headed directly towards you.