Between now and then, an antipode came to me. I fed myself to it and then I signed to it a greeting.
Hey. I hope I provided you with good sustenance.
The antipode was burned by the brightness of my signing. It vibrated violently across its entire length and inscribed to me as follows:
Agony. Fire. Do not sign so brightly. It hurts me.
And with that, the antipode left my attic, leaving me injured from the deep incisions of the inscription.