Weak things. The term was a casual, dismissive brushstroke that painted beings from one to one hundred Quadrillion in complexity as little more than bothersome insects.
Noah shook his head internally at the sheer, arrogant scale of power that was considered baseline in this ancient, terrible place.
"Today," Elara continued, a cruel, almost joyous, light entering her crimson eyes, "I was thinking we would pay a visit to the Nest of Inevitabilities. It has been a while since I had the chance to rip apart those mindless, hungry things."
…!
The words were a stone dropped into the quiet, still waters of Noah's existence.
He felt a sudden, violent lurch in his own existence, a tremor that did not come from him. Inside his consciousness, Khor, who had been a silent, observing presence, stirred.
Her voice was not a whisper; it was a blade of pure, frozen rage.
