"I wanted the ideal animal to hunt," explained the general. "So I said, `What are the attributes of an ideal quarry?' And the answer was, of course, `It must have courage, cunning, and, above all, it must be able to reason.'" - General Zaroff ["The Most Dangerous Game" - Richard Cornell].
There is no other quote in the written history of mankind (that I am familiar with, at least) that is as correct, and as disturbing, as this. As I read that short story, I became more and more aware of my predatory instinct. I realized that becoming immortal in the skies of New Eden has allowed this instict to come to the fore.
Immortality has turned the mixed excitement and terror of a confrontation into pure excitement.
A rush.
A drug.
Like no other.
Space, as does immortality, harbors no inhibitions. Cries and laments do not carry in a vacuum, nor do morals. Aside of the strong-arm of the hated CONCORD (which does not reach everywhere, nor everyone), there is little to stop one from taking the carefully labored fruits of another for his own, except that one other.
No reprecussions, no retribution, no regret.
Fellow immortals, once you (almost inevitably) reach this conclusion, know you are on a slippery slope with only one outcome: You will become hunters. Some may be solitary hunters, others may be pack hunters, but hunters we are, and we all seek the most dangerous prey of them all.
Thankfully, death cannot take us, either. So hunt we shall.
Now go kill someone,
Ang.
Ang.
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