Beyond the veil of waking life there lurks a malevolent force, an ancient terror tracing its existence to the genesis of the cosmos itself. Across gulfs of space and time it has crawled, an entity existing beyond the simple comprehension of mortal minds. To glimpse even the slightest glance of its true form is to court madness, for it dwells in realms far removed from the anchored realities known to man. Its body encompasses constellations, each of its countless unblinking eyes a blazing star. Its consciousness spreads like a dark nebula poisoning all it touches, an arachnid spinning a web of lies across the universe.

It has gone by countless epithets in mythology and legend on those worlds where its presence brushed. Some have given her a friendly name, to soften the blow to their psyches. The mother of spiders is not something to be trifled with. She is malice and rage and the art of patient predatory vengeance.

On Earth her progeny was called Jorogumo, the seductive shape-shifting witch spiders of Japanese folklore, luring humans to their demise. In modern myth, she is Shelob in Lord of the Rings. “She served none but herself, drinking the blood of Elves and Men, bloated and grown fat with endless brooding on her feasts, weaving webs of shadow; for all living things were her food, and her vomit darkness”. This memory is not just from our terrestrial existence. Some of us have faced these giant hairy monstrosities out there on other planets. Her brood sired from her infernal template. You may have a dim recollection of being devoured by one of these fel beasts, which intensifies your arachnophobia in this lifetime.

But no name fully encompasses this eater of worlds, this drinker of souls. In the void it listens for the secret songs that sway the spheres. Its limitless patience is that of the undertaker, waiting stoically for all light and life to fade. When a world’s existence ends, fraying destinies attract its gaze like flies to a web. It descends through dreams and madness, offering solace to troubled minds even as its whispers poison hope. Slowly its dark gospel spreads, a contagion that turns neighbour against neighbour.

So, it was on many planets in those final days before the end. As Armageddon loomed, the spider wove its labyrinthine prophecies into hearts and minds. False promises and comforting lies turned them against each other like rabid dogs. For where despair reigns, this ancient evil finds fertile soil. Yet its greatest deception was making them believe the war and devastation they wrought was solely their own doing. In truth, the spider had spun these events since the first fear-filled dreams troubled those slumbering in paradise long ago. All dark impulses nurtured by its whispers.

Even the righteous were ensnared in its web, for its words were honeyed poison that corrupted noble ideals into unyielding dogma. Friend now slew friend for righteousness’ sake, while the spider feasted on the darkness blooming in their hearts. Yet the darkest night still yields to coming dawn. As hope drained, a few brave souls turned their eyes from the storm. Within their hearts they kindled a spark to defy the encroaching void.

In dreams they gathered, shining spirits united by compassion’s grace. No outside force compelled them, only a choice – to stand for life when naught but endless night prevailed. With linked hands they banished the spider’s haunting whispers, clearing the fog of fear and hate from their minds. And they spoke new words into the abyss, odes to life’s resilience, songs of unity and wisdom reclaimed. Like a tide their voices rose, a chorus that welcomed the coming dawn with joyous celebration.

Where their voices mingled, the last of the spider’s web unwoven, releasing the planet from that ancient patient doom. Its hatched schemes came to ruin, scattering like ashes in a cosmic wind. For though the spider’s dark weavings spanned galaxies, within each soul light protective fire remains if fanned to flame.

Back through the abyss the spider retreats, to recoup and await its next feast. But life now blooms anew, and the cosmos turns in splendour heedless of that lurking terror deep within the void’s uncharted reaches. A battle won, yet the great war ever continues.

So dream gently, child of Earth, but be vigilant. Give no quarter to those voices that brew mischief and divide. Tend the fires of community and compassion, for only in unity can true light prevail. Wonder and beauty forever surround us, but life must be cherished and nurtured.

Keep your eyes turned toward the heavens, seeking not phantoms that creep and crawl. Ours is the spirit of creation, the task of building futures. The darkness knows its reign is ending. Let courage and hope be your guiding stars, and no spider shall hold dominion over your destiny.

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