I consider the first steps into a new world the most momentous. They are filled with anticipation, trepidation, awe, and wonder—even to a soul as old as mine. Imagine my disappointment, then, at my unprecedented journey into the domain of a god-genius beginning with the clatter of shifting garbage under my feet. Behold, divine refuse! Wounded vanity aside, I am here and I will make the most of this opportunity.
I suspect I was only able to stabilize the rift where it opened in Mundus as no one else from my expedition has erupted from the scrap heaps to greet me. That honor appears to be reserved for the mangled and discarded works of Sotha Sil. I have been forced to reduce a number of aggressive fabricants to slag since my arrival. Whether that is in response to the commands of the ever-present overseer, malfunction, or instinct I have yet to determine.
There is some hope that my associates were not deposited in the farthest reaches of Oblivion. The constant prattle of the machine operator of this place implies that it is contending with intruders aside from myself. For my part, I will continue to study the mechanisms within my reach while I remain beneath its notice.