Inseparable from drive, is hope. And boy, do vortigaunts have hope to spare. I know the intrinsically spiritual beings to have their goals deeply rooted in a bed of an almost inherent optimism seemingly derived from a prophetic energy for which they were named; or vice versa. The vortessence, according to them, is the whipped egg to the cake of our universe. It binds all and provides stability in a crumbling reality. The cultural boundary of a few light-years leaves the vortikind’s often times slurred rambles of prophecy ill-deciphered and almost impossible to comprehend. While defying most principles of previously understood science, perhaps our current predicament calls for a little less logic, and a lot more blind hope… "Yesss we arrive at the cusp. No further distance shaaaall remainn!" "Mrm..-the threads have truuuly parted, kinsman." "These tapestries woven bear witness! The path ahead is dark, but reckoning awaits, surely." "Just-so!" "We see it still. Forever parted gates, pushing us into the abyss!" "Ah- the Black Mesa." "Innndeed. The energies converge elsewhere now...the seventeenth. The seventeenth is where worlds shall collide onnnnce mooore." "Huzzah!" "Let the veils lift, kin. Allow these coils to unfurl, and the energies commune." "Mmmn, the energies..." "Join me! The day of liberation is close at hand. Humanity and vortikind alike will meet their freer! The Free Man beckons."