The Traveler's story lingered in Nox's mind. 'The Logos. A final theory. An idea that wants to be the only idea.' It was an enemy he couldn't punch, a kingdom he couldn't conquer. It was the ultimate conceptual threat.
He did not share the warning with the council. It was too abstract, too distant. To a civilization just finding its footing, the threat of a philosophical invasion was meaningless. He and Serian kept the knowledge to themselves, a quiet weight on the edge of their peaceful life.
The years continued their gentle, flowing rhythm. Children born after the 'Great Harmony' grew up in a world where magic was as natural as breathing. The stories of the old wars, of the Void Monarch and the Nexus Coalition, became just that: stories. Legends told by the fire.
