Unz um rjúfask regin

Brothers will fight 

and kill each other, 

sisters' children 

will defile kinship. 

It is harsh in the world, 

whoredom rife 

—an axe age, a sword age 

—shields are riven— 

a wind age, a wolf age— 

before the world goes headlong. 

No man will have 

mercy on another.

I first learned about Ragnarök in the fifth grade. We had just finished learning about the Greek gods, with their soap opera lives and parricidal tendencies. Right after that, there was a short section on the Norse gods, which ended with a small paragraph describing "Ragnarok or the Twilight of the Gods." (Though a more accurate translation, I would later learn, would be "final destiny of the gods.")

I was struck by the description of all the gods dying. And not only dying, but knowing they were going to die and  willingly going to the final battle, knowing that they would not survive. I quickly learned more about Norse mythology and Ragnarök.

I know the Norse gods were not real. If I believe in the Tulpa theory, perhaps I could believe that the Norse belief system made them real and then killed them, but I don't. So how can I possibly believe in a Ragnarök for the Slender Man?

If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him.

If Ragnarök does not exist, we must invent it. We must make our own Ragnarök for the Slender Man. We must make a final battle in which he dies, even at the cost of our own lives.

Before Ragnarök comes the fimbulwinter. And after comes the invincible summer.

Let's do it. Let's kill a god.