Sad little human. I have written my treatises into the warp and weft of reality itself. I have twisted my curiosity into the folds of your DNA and stamped my waxing madness into the ragged edges of the telomeres that mark your days as numbered. I have made of the stars a celestial QR code that burns across the skies of every planet, that burns across the eyes of every ape who stares into the night and asks “why?”. I announced The Work with a bang of gas and light and awe and set time itself into motion so my scripture could expand eternally into the infinite, benighted expanse.
You can’t keep secrets from the future.
Heard that once in a song about how all encryption is doomed to break against future math/computing power. Great eery phrase.