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Lore
Resonant Fury Mark
Eir yearns for nurture. It does so through order.
[The Witch Queen rarely paid visit to my prison. And when she did, it was not for me. She knew what I was, what I produced. I was a servant of the Subjugator. A servant of the Witness. A provider of that which took sustenance from her and many like her. She never cared for that. And as such, she never cared for me. Or for him. And he knew it.]
[She was cunning. Where wrath consumed Oryx and Xivu Arath, it always eluded Savathûn. Or perhaps, it was she who eluded it.]
[Of this, my Subjugator was not fond. Placed indefinitely in her throne world, he was made to watch her every move. To mentor and guide, to keep a close eye—so that one day, she, too, could serve the Witness. A Disciple in the making.]
[It was as planned. The Krill became the Hive. The enemy amongst the moons of Fundament disappeared. My Subjugator served his Witness well. But he could not escape the very words of his Witness, which beat against his mind whenever Savathûn stood in his presence. —-The universe is wide, my child. With wrath matching if not exceeding yours in its vastness. Seek it before it seeks you. Or it will be your end.—-]
[I became a vessel for his jealousies. A source of power for his Upended to consume. To see Savathûn's world shattered should she ever step out of line.]
[In the Deep, my children pay a price in servitude, for survival. In ascendance, the Hive pay a price in servitude, for power. And in the dark, I pay a price in servitude, so that others may be nurtured.]
[It must not be in vain.]
