"What’s your problem, Davie?"
"I see a bird. With tits. That’s not good.”
Mortals end is boring, follows boring reasons. Usually it’s wounds and diseases their body can’t confront. And what is an immortals end? Your body has no fear of every kind of wound, you don’t need to feed it, no disease can take it, no ages.
However, there’s always a catch. In this realm, at least.
End of mortal is distant and known to come when needed. Your
end is always here, with you. It is in your head. You named it the
Delusion, the curse of your kind. A creature, invisible to other eyes,
comes asudden, it exhaust not your body but your mind until you turn
into nothing, until you become insane, until people kill you for your
crime. It takes you home you was stolen from, child of the Desert. An end a poet would envy.