The world is replete with structures, even entire towns and cities, which have been abandoned by their previous inhabitants. Some petered out slowly, little by little, drained by some economic or demographic vacuum. Others were emptied en masse in the face of some catastrophe. The majority of these places were never reinhabited and so have been left derelict, to be reclaimed by “nature.”

And what is this “nature” which reclaims them? An immediate, if not crude sort of answer might go something like, “that which reclaims our derelict spaces is precisely those parts, aspects, and forces of the world which are non-human.” More explicitly, as an example: a ziggurat, left to its own devices, will be eroded by the elements; plants sneak their way into the cracks between foundations stones; and eventually, all that might remain would be the vaguest square depression left where the tower once stood. Even that, however, will eventually be dispersed by the relentless restorative mania of “nature.”

What is true of spaces once inhabited by humans—spaces in which traces of human habitation once stood—is also true on a grander scale. 

It is known that the Divine fills all of space, all of the world and all higher and lower worlds. Such is the nature of anything which can be called Divine. The Divine dwells everywhere and nowhere is devoid of It. 

And yet, we are a microcosm of the Divine. What is true of us—what is deeply true—is true of It, and one of the deep truths of the human condition is that we leave derelict spaces. And so, the Divine leaves Derelict Spaces.

The Derelict Spaces are not, strictly speaking, even spaces. They are not necessarily confined to a particular place or realm of space or time, though they usually are. A Derelict Space is somewhere, somewhen, in and during which all that we take for granted is rescinded. There is no sense, no logic, no linearity, no thoughts to be had. All binaries are erased. All spectra are turned inside out and tossed into the void. To be within a Derelict Space is almost certainly the most terrifying conceivable experience a human can endure. 

We can rest a little more easily, of course, knowing that without linearity or thought or time—where there is only the primordial chaos which was before and the Grand Terror to come—there is also no memory. As such, these experiences are forever confined to those Derelict Spaces in and during which they “happened.” That is to say, the parts of our souls devoured by the Living God in the places and times that It leaves to a far greater and more horrible “Nature,” remain entombed in therein—those places which are everywhere, at all times, past, present, and future, insofar as these terms can be meaningfully applied in to such a phenomenon so completely alien to the human understanding of time and space.

Such is a necessity of our fallen state in a fallen world.