"Don't be afraid. I won't—I would never ever hurt you." The voice was terrible, but it was soft, finally. The Thing turned what she supposed was its face towards her, but it seemed to be pleading with itself. "Please, I offer your kind so much forgiveness, I only ask that you do the same for me. Human, I have repented; I realize that I am an aberration, a horrible, all-consuming abnormality. Forgive me, child, for my crimes." Despite this, she cowered in fear.

Its face was indescribable, not even a face at all; a conglomerate of features, faces, skins, and genders, none of them fitting together perfectly. An inscrutable, kindly blue eye blinked from within its socket, surrounded by swatches of skin of all ethnicities. Parts of men, women, and children had been stitched and melted together, and when it spoke, they all seemed to move in different directions, threatening to pull apart. Patches of white hair thrust through the scalp and chin of the thing, while the luscious curls of a woman flowed in others. More than half of the head had been burned and broken into nothingness and replaced by lava, thunder, and lightening, and the second eye was nothing but unforgiving flame.

Its body floated in space, seemingly incapacitated—did it have a human body, or the form of a volcano? A thunderhead, or a light of terrible beauty? Again, in some places, it disappeared entirely and became something of insubstantiality.

"I cannot be seen by your kind!" He cried in anguish and wrath. "I cannot live amongst you, for I would not be considered a lord, but a monster." She gasped, and stared. The light— The voice— She spoke quietly, willing herself not to cry.