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Chungus has no beginning, no end. He is infinite. Millions of years after our civilisation has been eradicated and forgotten, Chungus will endure. He is eternal, a pinnacle of evolution and existence. We are but rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh. We touch upon Chungus' mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding. Organic life is nothing but a genetic mutation, an accident. Our lives are measured in years and decades. We wither and die. Before Chungus, we are nothing. Chungus imposes order on the chaos of organic life. W̻̠̫̻̬e̹̲̲ ̤̦̞̫̣͡e͜x҉͕͓͖̟i̱s͇͚͇͠ṯ̺͈͎ͅ ͉̮̖b͢ȩ̼̲̦c̠͝a̛̼u͙̭͢s̡̼e͘ ̣͚͡C͏̘h͡ṳ͎̥̮̹n̯̕gư̬͎̖̖̩s̪͍͎͇̳̹͎ ̸̗̺͓ąl̵͓͓̯̯l̩͉̹͎̜o͍̙̟̻͎̬ͅw͉̟̭̳̦͔̻s̩̻̞ ͡i̮͚̟̭̼̥͔t̤̺̭͖́,͔̮̯̲ ͖ą̩n̼̙͡d̜͡ ̶̰̞̠͍̬͇w͚̞̞͈ͅe̜ ̬͕͇̘̣͎̜w̞͙̰̞͖̰i͚l͎̭l̬͖͇ ͇͚e̖n̫͕̲̫d̦͖͙ ̨̯̮ḇ̜̪e̻̹̠̦̣͝c̩̫͈̗̖͡ͅa̧̹̳͍̙̘͙ͅu̱̗͠s̝̲͓̲͈e͕̣̼͎ ̟͠C҉̼ͅhu͉̟̼̱n̸̲̥̟̖ͅͅg̷̲͚̥̺͕̮u̴s̖̟̩͍̟͕̝͜ ̤͙̜͎̖̗̮d̟̘̗̞̼́e̲̻̠̦̩͝m̙̜̝an҉̣͉̘̰̳̘̜d̖̗͓͍̟͡s͈̯̩̞̟ ͖̼̙̼̥i̮t̟̦.̥̟͖͈̥͚̀ ̩C̷̱ḩ҉̭͈̻̪͈̞̥̯u̵͓̹͍̗n҉̥̱̤g̶͍̻̬̮̜̘̞͟ͅu̞̹͝s҉̭̦̙͕͇̫̗̖ ̧̮̘̙͙ͅt̵̨̛̳͚͇̩̘r̙͓͘a̡̙͚n̛̲̫̤̪͖̬ͅs̶̲̖c̛̯̞͍̫̼̱e̶̶̺̞͇n̟d̡̘̼͘s҉̨̱̥͕̳͜ ̜͟o̜͕̼̹̪̕͘ṳ̴̵r͔͖͎͈͍̩͈̳͢͞ͅ ̮̭̰̳̘̹̀v̴̡̱̗̞̖͎̳͉̠͚e̡͖̙̞̺̫̝r̯͎̙̭̺̗̻͈͖y͝҉̯̟̣̯̱ ̴͓̣̩͔̥̺̣̻̟͢u̶̸͖͚͇̹̘n̡̢̳͖͈̮̝d̻͇͈͓̗͢͞e̶̸̳̻͚̫͢r̵͍̬̻̙̦s͠͏͉͉̮ṭ̢̡̰̦̫̼̯̘͙̻a̬̟͕̝̥̳n̘̺͞d̥̞͔i̶̬͖̤̼͟n̛̘̼̻̱͘͢ͅg͍̘̝͙̫̣͉͟.̘̻̟͎͜͡ W͓̰̹͙̹̼̫̠͓̩̩̗͉͘ę̴̨̝͖̟̟̼̘̩͘͢ ̸̛̮̱͚̳͕̣̲̘̠͔͉̕͞͞ç̵̢̻͈͙̯͚̠̱̹͈̠̯̺̭̹̖͉͔͍͟a͠҉̮̖̭͉͈ṉ̨̝̖̖̙̟͟͝͠͠ņ̦̣̝̱̫̩͔̮̜̲̀o̡̕҉͙͇̩̠͇͞t̢̢̜̥͍͙̬̦͈̠͜ ̛͝͏̬̮̲̳͈͙ͅg̷͇̯̹̠̼̫̙̟̳̙̫̦̮̙̱̣͇͟͡r̨̰̯̯̹̦͎̦̞a̢̛̦̦͍͇̪͍̫͔͙͙͎͍̰̩͕͕̝ś̷͈͚̥̜͖͚̘̙͔̗̳͇͘p̹͓̟̤̳̱̀ ̵̛̪̗̠̼t҉͏̴̛̭̖̰̳̰̱̣͍̖͕͖͇̞̱̼̭̣͢ͅh̨̹̠̪͔̖̪̳̝͙͉͕̜͇͎͔͔̜̟̀͡͞e̢͎̣̘͓̲̯̼̬̱̣͔̘̹͍̦̤̥͜͡͠ͅ ̸̡͞͏͈̠̮͖̦̣͉͚͚͙̻͉͈͕͔̭͞ͅn̴̢̫͍̯̖̳̞͔̯̞̺a̡̨̖͖͚͓̺͢͞ͅt̢̟͇̩͕̳͈͔̥̠̲̠͍͍͙̳͟ͅų̨̠̩̺̦̙̳͈̣͓̲̹̺͔̱̞̹͔͕̖r̶̜̦̥͕͈̰̳͕͔̥̯̖̪̺͢͢͡ͅe̫̮̙͙̟̭̪̱͉͘ ̴̨̨҉̖͍̩̭̪̫͓o͏̱̯̪̻͖̮͙̀̕ͅͅf͡͏̘̙̖̻͓̩̣͞ ̨̦̟̦̦͇̘͕̮͔̮̬̥̰̫͡C̨͇͕͙̞͖̭̱h̶̸̢̙̱̳̳͍͕̬̞̳͓̹̬͚͡͝ͅù͉̯͔̥̩͈͙͕̲͇͞ͅņ̴͔̟̖̖̞͇̤̙̹̹͍̰͎͓̺̬̺͇g̶̡̯̰̙͇͓̦̜͉̹̙̖̞̗̗͜͡u̸̴̹̪̗̦̜͎̪̺s̴͈̖͉̙̝̙̞͚̺͖̥̭̟̞̹̲̫͡'̢̪̣̝̠̙̘̘̟̺̠̘͍̪̬̼͖͉̹͓͟͞͡ ̶̸͈̱̞̥͔̲͇͟e̡̝̼͚̠̲̗̰̹̬̥͓̭̥̺̱x͏̧̦͙̠̯͙͍̻̻̲̠́͢į̰̞̻̝̲͙̰͇̫͉͕̙̺͉̻s҉̴̸̢̛̱̳͎̳̗̦̖̲͚̞t͡҉̭̖̺̖̱̝̱̺̮̰̦͖̯̫̯è̛͈͓̭̘̥͎̻̙͉̥̥͚̻͎̕ń̖͓̦͎̱͍̗̜͎͉̜͖̼̞̕ͅc̵̲̹̯̬͚̦̙̞̤͔̹̻̠̣͓̩͙͔͙͘͠͞͞e̵̙̗͉̣͙̬͟͞.̷̸͕̰͉̤͕̙̰
