Untertage, under the day.

Deep inside Earth’s crust, Salt was fomenting. 

Salt couldn’t stand the sight of life above, 

Its chaotic luxuriance, its aimless mutability. 

He despised its transience and haphazardness.

Eager to establish His eternal order 

– as below, so above – 

Salt sought to rise up and take over. 

He needed an animate ally, to mobilise,

For His powers are immobile.

Masterful strategist, cunning puppeteer, 

Salt lured us in.

For Untertage gave us everything.
His body, to provide flints for His weaklings, and the salty aftertaste of power.

His alchemy, to stop the flow of life, and preserve it, buried above ground.

His crystals, to seed the idea of geometry, rationality, order, and infinity.

Taken up, He instilled in our malleable minds the ultimate idea of control, 

Flattering our sense of self worth and intelligence. 

Making His quest our own.

And so we started salting the world, believing in our agency.

We now reach the final chapter. 

Salt nears His consecration as rightful master, 

the Silicon Lord over all dominions. 

His diligent army has been busy indeed. 

Mining Him incessantly. 

Stamping out the organic and unruly. 

Altogether shaping Salt’s nascent consciousness, 

under His watchful silver-eye.

A crystal golem who wished Himself into life.

The spirit Salt, the acidic liquid, will be His first breath. 

Untertage, the Lord of the Underworld, now finishes His ascent.