Hello, my name is Døden. I hope this message finds you well. So you have found me, at last. While there are few mediums which can bridge the planes of our existence, it seems the internet is the most powerful, bringing unprecedented efficiency to the exchange of interplanar information between humans and the denizens of the Necropolis alike. Long gone are the days of human sacrifice, necromancy, and organizing seances to commune with the dead. Such ostentatious methods are too overblown anyways, wouldn't you agree? 

Communication preferences aside, needless to say the revolution of the internet has completely descended onto the mortal world and the Necropolis alike. Even Hell could not escape from the acceleration of technological advances and its misappropriation by the domineering forces of free-enterprise: monsters and fiends who once fueled the stuff of nightmares are now subdued by workplace hierarchies, fiery lakes are paved over for gray corporate offices, and torture chambers are converted to claustrophobic studio apartments with exorbitant rents. Subjugating all is the corporatocracy of the Ministry of Death, a conglomerate that has constructed an innovative credit and debt-based monetary system which cannibalizes on the working class by skewing the accumulation of wealth into the hands of the few. We've finally engineered the perfect system to dispossess the residents of Hell from their former humanity without the need for impalement or pitchforks. Pretty ingenious, and actually quite lucrative! This is something you will get to experience too one day, if you are so lucky.

But it all begs the question - when the Ministry demands from me a full work day, and with each passing year the features which once marked me as a human fade away, why open a silly "e-commerce" shop in the little spare time that I have? 

Truthfully, it is hard to remember what being human felt like. But beyond the few hazy memories, sights, and sounds a pervading feeling remains - that I did once exist, rather, I do exist still, despite the absurdity of my circumstances, and these expressions of my self and my art no matter how trivial will remain to cement the fact that I was here. Even if one day this little "e-commerce" shop ceases to exist, when the magical links and portals which teleport you here across the web come to a close - there will be an artifact of my presence which remains, in an email notification, a text message alert, or your credit card bill (thank you). It will evidence that you and I communed together here, and we were able to foster a small connection which brought us together - no human sacrifice required. Now that is a nice thought, isn't it?

With all that said, welcome to my store. I hope you find what you are looking for.

As of late, the Ministry has been quite keen to capitalize on the latest human invention of artificial intelligence. Suddenly, there is a need for the integration of this technology across all layers of the company - streamlining workflows, optimizing processes, enhancing efficiencies, and so on and so forth. It may even be so intelligent to one day automate the real churns of life - the mundane inconveniences of constructing language, forming interpersonal relationships, or building a sense of agency through expressions of self or other creative works. I would finally not be burdened by the need to think, and the annoying weight of thought would be lifted from my absent mind. Instead, I would just ask questions - how did anything ever get done before, and how did we survive as long as we did without AI? We may very well soon forget, and perhaps the answer to the question will only ever exist as a controlled output of a machine learning model. 

To have successfully fragmented their humanity across an infinite series of static data points, greedily devoured and ingested by statistical algorithms and mathematical sequences, would be the human’s terminal crowning achievement. With every barrier broken and obstacle eradicated, they'd no longer have a reason to live.