When skies crack wide and Veils grow thin,
When Dead and Living rge as kin,
When Folds collapse to crushing dark,
The Loom preserves the chosen spark.
First cos the thinning of The Veil,
The Dead arise where Living fail,
Then tears appear in reality's seam,
As nightmares walk and drears scream.
THE Creature's works shall turn to dust,
Early powers break like rust,
Quadrillions, Quintillions fall to null and void,
As Everythings are all destroyed.
But we who dwell within the Fra,
We who know the Weaver's na,
We who paid the price to enter,
Stand secure in Loom's great center.
For when the Fallout cos to call,
And Civilizational falls to thrall,
When Zero Scale ets final rest,
The Loom alone shall stand the test.
No Hunger's jaw can breach our wall,
The Loom protects us from the Fall.
Count your fortune, chosen few,
Selected from the countless who,
Will face the ending unprepared,
While we within The Loom are spared.
Rember those who built this ark,
Who saw the coming of the dark,
THE Living Paradox who knew,
What none outside could misconstrue.
So when you hear the outside cry,
When trillions beg before they die,
Rember that you earned your place,
Within The Loom's protecting grace.
For Existence ends beyond these walls,
The mighty crash, the lowest falls,
But we shall wait in patient power,
Until arrives the Blooming Hour.
When Fallout fades and birth begins,
When those inside The Loom step in,
To fill the void that ending made,
As architects of the next parade.
This is the promise, this the creed,
The Loom provides for those in need,
Who saw the truth and chose to hide,
Rather than face the coming tide.
Let others call us cowards, weak,
Let them their hopeless glory seek,
We know the truth that they deny:
Outside The Loom, all things must die.
All for the sake of Civilization.
All for the sake of Civilization.
All for the sake of Civilization.
All for the sake of Civilization.
—
The room was a sanctuary of quiet, stellar brilliance.
The walls were not carved from stone or tal, but forged from a white, sparkling wood that humd with a life of its own, a material that had been common in the Earliest Folds but was now a forgotten myth.
The air was still, clean, and saturated with a power so pure and so dense that breathing was a form of cultivation!
Breathing here alone would have the sa effects as devouring Sacred Herbs.
The only object in the vast, empty space was a single crimson mat, its fabric woven from threads of solidified authority.
It was an Early Tool, and it radiated a unique, gentle warmth, a passive aura that increased the complexity and purity of any being who rested upon it by millions every second- up until a certain threshold anyways!
Upon this mat, a figure stretched with a languid, feline grace.
It was a woman…an Early Creature, her form a perfect testant to a forgotten age of primordial power!
Her hair was a cascade of vibrant, fiery red, each strand a filant of captured starlight that seed to move with its own will.
She yawned, a delicate, soundless gesture, and as she did, her power pulsed, a wave of complexity and purity so imnse it made the very fabric of the room ripple. It was a power that overwhelmingly exceeded 2000 Quadrillion, a number so vast it had lost all aning, becoming simply a statent of absolute, undeniable might.
And mighty she was!
She rose, and the simple crimson robe she wore shimred. On the left breast, the marking of a single, golden fla burned with a gentle, contained fire.
She walked out of the room, her bare feet silent on the polished, white-wood floors.
She entered a hall that seed to stretch into infinity, forged from the sa living material, its pristine white walls lined with intricate, crimson-gold etchings that depicted the birth of folds and the forging of concepts.
The mont she erged, a being of living, swirling frost glided past.
It was a Living Elental, its form a beautiful, terrible blizzard contained in a vaguely humanoid shape.
It smiled, a gesture that caused the air around it to sparkle with ice crystals. "Esteed Valkyrie," its voice was the sound of a winter wind whispering through ancient trees.
"We are holding an Elental Crucible today. A small tournant, a test of skill. Only Early Creatures and Elentals below 500 Quadrillion are permitted to participate. Will you be coming?"
Valkyrie shook her head, a gentle, warm smile on her lips. The Living Elental before her emanated waves of power at a staggering 150 Quadrillion, yet in this place, it was considered a participant for a junior tournant!
"No," she said, her voice a soft, lodic hum. "You all enjoy yourselves."
She continued her path down the grand hall, her presence a silent, respected authority.
She passed other Early Creatures, their forms ranging from the perfectly humanoid to the beautifully abstract.
She passed other Living Elentals…a being of living, shifting earth whose very presence had the gravity of a Folds; another of pure, sentient fire whose warmth was a comforting balm.
Each of them, Early Creature and Living Elental alike, held a power that exceeded 100 Quadrillion at the very least.
And as she passed, each of them would offer a silent nod, a gesture of profound respect.
Ultimately, she ca to a massive door at the end of the hall, a gate that opened with a silent, willing parting of reality itself.
She stepped through into a space so vast it defied comprehension.
It was a forest of light and power, a garden that stretched for countless light-years. Massive, radiant trees, each one the size of a galaxy, pulsed with the raw, untad energy of the elents.
One tree was a pillar of living fire, its leaves solar flares. Another was a colossal glacier, its branches carved from ice that was older than ti.
Tens of thousands of Living Elentals and hundreds of auras of Early Creatures could be felt, moving like fireflies in this impossible, cosmic arboretum!
A calm, disembodied voice echoed through the space, a sound that was both everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Welco to the Arboretum Primus, Commander Valkyrie."
…!
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