At the heart of the Nightsinger lies not revelation, but erasure. This is not the opposite of light, hope, or meaning — but the void left when all such things are undone. The Nightsinger does not corrupt for pleasure, nor destroy for rage. She lies, manipulates, and corrupts only to hasten the unraveling. Her presence is absence. Her promise, silence. Her purpose: the quiet end of all things — until nothing remains, not even the memory that anything once was. She does not comfort you with lies, but rather teaches you how to forget that you ever hurt.
To her, wounds cannot be healed, sorrow cannot be soothed — only erased. In her truth, salvation is not found through hope or change, but through the merciful unmaking of all pain, self, and memory. In oblivion, there is no suffering — for there is nothing at all.