"To serve the world, we must grow deaf to the self."
— Dr. Sofia Lamb, BioShock 2
And Tiffany saw it, like a Hogswatch card: birds frozen to their twigs, horses and cows standing still in their fields, frozen grass like daggers, no smoke from any chimney; a world without death because there was nothing left to die, and everything glittering like tinsel.
Now the sun turned red in a burning sky. Tiffany drifted through air like warm oil into the searing calm of deep deserts, where even camels die. There was no living thing. Nothing moved except ash.
"She Who Lives in Her Name is a fire surrounded by a crystal sphere. That fire whispers its name to the 100 fires that surround it, each in their own sphere. Each of those fires whispers its name to the 99,997 fires that whirl around the whole. Mortals and demons who hear the name that these fires whisper become its tool. They murmur or shout that name to those around them, never ceasing in this chant, and turn their hands and eyes to the lady's work. Until their voice fails and they fall from the chorus, they are the servants of the great fire at the center of She Who Lives in Her Name.
"She Who Lives In Her Name embodies the principle of hierarchy. Her touch made the great things greater and the small things smaller. Her fires bound the small to the great. Creation is a place of hierarchies, of rulers and the rules, with chains of command descending from the greatest gods and kings to the smallest spirits and slaves. Before her vengeance, it held better orders, though their natures are unknown. Now, it reflects her nature, the organization of her fires. For all their glory, the gods fear that they live in her shadow—in the world she remade.
"She Who Lives In Her Name still hates the gods and their children, but her plans for the mortal world rarely express this hatred. She wishes to see the world become as she would have created it, a thing of absolute order and regulation, without the freedoms and insubordination that corrupt its hierarchies today. She wishes to rub the gods’ noses in the knowledge that the world is already somewhat hers."
—Games of Divinity, Exalted
Evil? No, no, I will not accept that. They are conditioned simply to survive. They can survive only by becoming the dominant species. When all other life-forms are suppressed, when the Daleks are the supreme rulers of the universe - then, you will have peace. Wars will end. They are power not of evil, but of good.
— Davros on his creations, Doctor Who, "Genesis of the Daleks"
The Weaver allows the Gauntlet to be open just enough for a tiny trickle of spirit to reach through both ways. The physical and spirit worlds are kept barely alive, almost on life support. This is the world of the science-fiction dystopia: few people dream, few aspire to change things, and society functions like clockwork. Human nature itself is almost unrecognizable; only a few people feel emotions to any degree, and even then, they are incapable of the same great acts of beauty and cruelty. There are, of course, no supernatural elements in the world at all - no werewolves, no undead, no magic. The years pass like clockwork, the seasons so regular that after a while, it's impossible to tell whether or not time is passing at all. The universe continues to function, but it's hard to say whether this is any sort of mercy.
—The Weaver Ascendant, Werewolf: The Apocalypse - Apocalypse,
The world today is a simpler place. We've taken out all the complications. All the square pegs and the painful and the strange. In our utopia, lacking cultural referent for deviancy, all are happy with their lot. Everybody is exactly the same. Isn't it sweet?