Inside a Shelter of THE Loom.
A domain of cylindrical tall mountain-like pillars stretched endlessly in all directions, each one rising toward a ceiling that did not exist. Multicolored rivers of clouds flowed between these pillars like lazy serpents, carrying whispers of power that had been accumulated over eons of careful planning.
On one tall pillar, imnse waves of authority were flowing into a single entity. His hair currently shone stellar gold with unfathomably radiant multicolored pupils that seed to contain folds within their depths. His stature was that of a human, yet he felt like a giant whose presence alone could crush lesser beings into oblivion.
Near him were three shrouded female figures that were none other than THE Weavers.
Their faces could not be discernible as they looked like black holes that would devour everything, pulling in light and perception alike until nothing remained but the void of their presence. Their bodies seed to be channeling a unique power through THE Loom and into the titan of a man before them.
He was none other than Gilgash.
A Leader among Leaders.
A glorious entity that had thrown his Curiosity all the way from the Earliest Folds to attack Noah in the current era. A being whose ambition stretched across ti itself!
And at this mont, an air of THE Fundantal Depth of Absolute Sovereignty surged around him. His gaze was deep and filled with an unfathomable light that spoke of power recently gained and power yet to be fully understood. The authority flowing into him was settling into his existence like water finding its level, reshaping him from within.
"You hold the most potent Weavings of THE Creature as Paradox has raised you to THE Fundantal Depth," THE Weavers spoke in unison, their voices overlapping in a way that made it impossible to distinguish one from another. "How does it feel?"
Gilgash’s multicolored pupils flickered as he considered the question.
"It feels like I am being controlled," he replied with cold honesty. "And I don’t particularly like that."
THE Weavers laughed, the sound ancient and knowing, as if they had heard such complaints countless tis across the eons.
"Understandable," they said together. "But Existence is a ga of give and take. We give you what you want, and you do sothing for us in turn. This arrangent has existed since before THE Loom was conceived. You are not the first to chafe at it, and you will not be the last."
Their shrouded forms shifted slightly, black hole faces turning toward him with what might have been amusent.
"This ti around, the mission placed on you will be this man."
THE Weavers waved their hands in unison, and an illusory image materialized between them. It was Noah Osmont, rendered in perfect detail with his blue-gold authority radiating even through the projection.
Gilgash looked at the image calmly, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts. He studied every detail with the patience of soone who had existed since the Earliest Folds, who had seen empires rise and fall, who knew that rushing to judgnt was the mistake of the young.
"He will be hunted by weak things at THE Surface Depth, but THE Esteed Paradox wanted soone decent to track him,"THE Weavers continued. "You and we have this task. The others are distractions, noise, insects buzzing around a fla. We are the true hunters. And you are the one ant to bring this hunt to its conclusion."
...!
When they spoke, the voices of THE Weavers ca out simultaneously, three voices becoming one in a manner that was extrely eerie. It was as if they shared a single consciousness split across three bodies, or perhaps three consciousnesses rged into a single will.
And yet toward these words, Gilgash remained calm as he asked a simple question.
"Any preference on whether he needs to be brought in alive or collapsed?"
...!
The question was heavy, carrying implications that stretched far beyond its simple phrasing. Bringing Noah in alive would an one thing. Collapsing him would an another entirely.
THE Weavers laughed again, the sound carrying genuine amusent this ti.
"If you can fully collapse him, it would an you stand the chance to lay a claim on The First Tongue," they said with voices dripping with temptation. "You can give it a go."
...!
The eyes of Gilgash pulsed with a terrifying imnsity at such words.
The First Tongue.
The language of Existence itself.
If he could collapse the one who had laid claim to it, if he could destroy Noah Osmont utterly and completely, there was a chance, however slim, that he could inherit that claim for himself.
It was a prize worth any risk.
But a mont later, he nodded with the composure of soone who planned thoroughly before acting.
"I will need my Legions of THE Early Creatures," he stated. "Make sure to tell the big guy to send harvest their way to ensure their Depths are at least at Surface, maybe Interdiate."
...!
Even more terrifying words were uttered.
Legions.
Not a handful of powerful entities. Not a small strike force. Legions of THE Early Creatures, beings from the Earliest Folds who had followed Gilgash across eons, all of them elevated to THE Surface Depth of Absolute Sovereignty at minimum.
It was an army ant to crush, not to hunt.
Toward this, THE Weavers smiled behind their black hole faces.
"That much can be done," they affird. "THE Esteed Paradox has resources to spare from THE Fallout’s harvest. Your Legions will be elevated. Your hunt will be properly supported."
...!
---
Across Existence, many made their preparations as THE Fallout was underway.
An interminable light struck out against THE Belly of Existence, tearing through barriers that had stood since before recorded history. The attack was relentless, absolute, backed by Axioms of Observable Existence that made resistance nearly futile.
THE Prison of THE Creature was torn open as the many entities within it that he had been siphoning from for eons flooded out into the burning landscape of THE Fallout. Ancient powers that had been captive for longer than most civilizations had existed now found themselves free but cursed, blessed with liberation but branded with THE Existential Ceiling.
Ginnungagap beca opened once more as for the first ti in eons, Malford Ginnu Lifeforms would appear in the changing Observable Existence. These twisted beings, born from the chaotic energies of that primordial realm, spilled into an Existence that had almost forgotten they existed.
What used to be the Infinite Unfurling was unlocked as all the Sovereignties within it flared out. Every single one was affected one way or another by the light of THE Fallout, so gaining mutations that would define their future, others simply bearing the curse that limited their advancent forever.
THE Living Paradox officially started his War with THE Creature, and it would not end in an instant.
It would be a long war as the victor was undecided.
Or maybe, the victor was already known, but Existence rely held its breath, waiting to see if fate would unfold as expected or if sothing unexpected would tip the scales.
As countless wonders unfolded, ti passed.
The Second Phase of THE Fallout continued as THE Infiniverse stood strong against the apocalyptic devastation. Its barriers held firm, powered by Logos and Philologies of The First Tongue that were regenerated as fast as they were destroyed.
The Early Veiled Shore of THE Creature was surrounded by a unique protective light as it stood strong, sheltering the countless lifeforms that Anaximander had drawn into its sanctuary.
And everything drew toward a conclusion as with the distortion of what THE Fallout was doing to Existence, so areas may have already experienced the passage of years while in others barely a second had passed. Ti itself had beco inconsistent, unreliable, subject to the whims of the catastrophe that was reshaping all of reality.
But the first shot had been taken.
A belly was spilled open.
A blade had been drawn.
And now, all that waited was to discover just how much blood had spilled, and how much more blood would spill before the dust finally settled!
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