They long for the alchemy. People. They do. What is already here, amongst them, just outside their comprehension, they long to discover.
Eternal pleasure. They want to find it, but most of them never will. Those who do, I shudder for them, and hope they find a quick death at the hands of a hunter. Because they want to be like us, but most won’t be. They will be like them.
Soulless.
Heartless.
They will have their eternal pleasure, at the expense of the world.