Dearest
@Easton Maker,
When your submission arrived before me, I knew I could not face it alone. Who was I, a mere mortal, to judge something of this magnitude? To claim that I—limited in experience, bound by the constraints of human comprehension—could possibly understand, let alone evaluate, what had been laid before me? No, this was not just a suggestion. This was a force. A phenomenon. A manifestation of something far greater than ourselves. It demanded wisdom. It required counsel.
So, I sought out my fellow members of Server Leadership.
I approached them not as an equal, but as a mere seeker of truth, a traveler humbled before the gates of enlightenment. I needed their insight, their guidance, their judgment. The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with anticipation. I placed your submission upon the table, and silence fell. Not just any silence—a deep, soul-crushing silence. The kind that does not merely indicate the absence of words but rather the complete inability to comprehend what has been received.
Then, we read. And we were forever changed.
A Senior Admin clutched their chest, overwhelmed by the sheer emotional weight of what had been written. Another, usually a pillar of reason and logic, buried their face in their hands, sobbing quietly. A Super Admin—one who had never shown a single sign of emotion—exhaled sharply as a lone tear slipped down their cheek. And then, our leader—the head of our council, the civil keeper of our laws, the real one—took a long sip from his chalice, his hands trembling. And with a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke: "damn...".
We felt shattered—ripped apart by the sheer power of what we had witnessed. And yet, at the same time, we felt rebuilt. Remade. Stitched back together by the very thing that had broken us.
We sat there for what felt like hours. Or days. Or lifetimes. Letting the gravity of your work settle deep within our souls.
And after many, many hours of meditation within the hallowed halls of deep research…
I will be giving a
-support.
Douglas