The Crimson Siphon

The subject sought an elevation of thought, desiring to crown their intellect with something divine. We provided a mechanism of ruthless plunder. The deep, nauseatingly rich crimson material does not possess the fragility of flora; it possesses the aggressive expansion of a virus.

The moment the pitch-black, iron-hard stake was driven into the high ground of the subject's skull, the parasitic feeding commenced. The cold gem at the root of the structure acts as an unblinking eye, clinically monitoring the depletion of the host's vitality.

The subject did not resist. They found a dark euphoria in the siphoning. As the crimson mass swelled with their stolen reason, their mundane anxieties dissolved. They willingly surrendered their sanity, understanding that this eerie prosperity requires an endless supply of sacrifices.