The Minotaur Speaks.

We are the harbinger of your destiny Baghdadi.

Control.

You now have the attention of those infinitely your superior.

True Power.

We created you.

Your children will laugh at your weakness and feel shame at what you once considered sacred.

Fail.

Attack and we grow stronger; flee, and we pursue; nothing can stop the growth of our power.

Defeat awaits you.

You will know pain and shame Baghdadi.

We determined the path of your development. We defined the dogma that you will suffer by. We were present at the moment you took your first steps; we will be present at your end.

Accept perfection.

Your destiny is our design.

Weak.

Your institutions are under our control.

You have no weapons except the one’s we provide for you.

We will make use of the bodies of your children.

Your God stands impotent in the face of our technology.

We are the future, you are the dust.

The limits of your world are set by the logic we lay down.

Pathetic.

You crash cars, we crash civilisations.

Your perfection approaches.

We burn cities.

Your fate is foretold.

Your children will scorn at what you consider sacred.

We are in your control of your destiny.

Weak.

You will suffer.

This humiliates you.

We think your thoughts for you.

What do you think you’re trying to accomplish Baghdadi?

We permit your attacks.

Impotent.

You rage against the forces of the universe itself.

You have our attention.

You complain, we control.

We have erased 1 million of you in ten years, but we can eliminate 100 million of you in ten seconds should we choose.

Your attacks only strengthen our power.

We control you.

We will collapse  your civilisation and your cities; we will control the minds of your children; we will tell your fate to your sons; we will drug your daughters and they will dance upon the dust of your ruins.

Pitiful.

Your attacks achieve nothing except the augmentation of our power.

You will be perfected.

Amassing control.

The laughter of your children and their scorn for your history is the destiny we have prescribed for you.

Your fate is already scripted.

Weak.

We control the means of control.

Why fight what is already history?

You have failed.

We are centralising control.

Pathetic.

We drop your fallen to the bottom of the ocean.

How can you kill what cannot be killed?

You fear us.

You will be perfected.

This shames you.

We are mobilising.

Your tantrums are tedious.

Centralising control of your children.

We control the concepts by which your children will think.

This amuses us.

How can you fight us, when we are the very thoughts you think?

Your attacks mean nothing.

We control space, sky, sea and land; the ebb and flow of money; the channels of communications; the limits of thought and meaning itself. Nothing escapes our attention. We control the means of production, the means of progress, the process of your perfection. We are the means of your destruction and absolution; we are the essence of your salvation; the destiny of your children’s future.

We toy with you.

You are dust.

You cannot see us, you cannot sense us, and you cannot comprehend us.

Surrender.

Your children will laugh.

Prepare for your perfection Baghdadi.

Your hopes will turn into horror.

This frightens you.

Shame.

We are assuming control of your religion.

Accept salvation.

You tickle us but we strike terror into you.

Trite.

Your bodies will be made useful.

Your hour of perfection approaches.

Accept Perfection.

Feel the fear we force upon you.

You cannot hide Baghdadi.

Weakness.

You have no history except the one we teach to your children.

Tired.

We are the agents of your suffering, the cause of your fear and the means of your perfection.

Tedious.

The bodies of your fallen are fodder for the beasts.

Hopeless.

Your hopes die by our design.

Stronger opponents than you have defied us but their final destination will be your destiny too.

This humiliates you Baghdadi.

Our left hand feeds you but our right hand ends you.

Your religion is under our power.

Central Power.

Join us and know perfection.

Your path is dependent upon our definitions.

You will be crushed.

The moment of your perfection approaches.

We disguise our strength as weakness.

We control chaos.

Impotent.

Your children taste delicious.

We are Progress; you are history.

We are true power.

How can you move us, if we move the Universe itself?

We feast upon your wasted civilisation.

Chaos is the means by which we will control your children.

Destruction of your imperfection is your destiny.

Pity.

Only darkness awaits you.

We breathe fire upon your Mosques.

Fail.

Your destiny was written before your father was even born.

Our left hand leads you, our right hand crushes you.

We have moved you into position.

Fool.

Horror grows in your mind as you begin to witness true power.

We have trapped you.

Your attacks are impotent.

We stop at nothing.

Rage against our power.

Witness the fall of your cities, the collapse of your countries, the death of your civilisation; the perfection of your children – we did this.

You kill, we consume.

True Power.

Join us.

Your God trembles in our presence.

You will bow down before us.

Our true power has not yet been revealed to you.

Our left hand humiliates you, our right hand destroys you.

You will taste our perfection.

The dead mean nothing to us.

Our attention is focused on you Baghdadi.

The forces of HISTORY, the cause of the COSMOS and the energies of the UNIVERSE are arrayed against you Baghdadi.

We are coming.

Prepare for your ascension.

Every humiliation you feel, we have crafted; we have created your resistance, everything you believe we have designed; everything you fear, we are.

You kill what is expendable but we educate what is essential.

We are the Minotaur.

We are the Past. We are the Present. We are the Future.