THE Weavers continued, their voices in unison!
"He shall wear no crown, yet command emperors.
He shall be neither king nor beggar.
He will gather the scattered, lost children of a dying existence,
And from the frayed threads of their despair, weave a single, impossible banner.
For only in the desperate, relentless climb toward a dawn they cannot see,
Can the coming, absolute night be weathered.
And a new light will shine, not from a single, sovereign sun,
But from the countless, small fires of a people who chose to stand together against the final dark.
The Light of Civilization."
HUUM!
The Prophecy ended, leaving a profound, echoing silence in its wake. Schrodinger was shocked, dazed, his mind reeling from the sheer, overwhelming weight of the words.
"What is this?" he stammered. "What do you mean? Are you… are you telling me this because I am such a being?"
