I know of many. My world was part of a rich multiverse of planes, demiplanes, alternate realms, planetary bodies, life-and-afterlife... I watched my own world grow sick and die, once. It changed everything as we knew it, and even after it recovered it was never the same world that I knew.

[ The Spellplague was a horrific period of time; gods died, the world struggled and shifted on a castastrophic, apocalyptic level. ]

But, it was a whole world. These are not. It's not about whether this world is capable, not to the Advocate. It's about whether we ask it to suffer for a chance that won't come, or whether we can stomach giving them a gentler passing than what we experienced at the hands of Oblivion. I don't want to give them to Oblivion's hunger.