The Fading of the Nexus was a quiet, insidious thing. It wasn't a cataclysm. It was a slow, gentle unraveling. The colors of their reality seemed a little less vibrant. The great epics in the library felt a little less profound. The laughter in the streets of Portentia was just a little less heartfelt.
Their civilization, which had defined itself by its rich, complex, and chaotic story, was becoming… bland.
The Genesis Project was a resounding success. The Shard-Verse was stabilizing. The Mimesis were learning, growing, writing their own, unique and beautiful stories. They were no longer a threat. They were a neighbor. A very strange, very powerful, and very grateful neighbor.
But the cost was becoming undeniable. The Nexus had given away so much of its own narrative energy, its own meaning, that it was beginning to forget itself.
