THE Mouseion of Fated Artifacts was a unique place.
When Noah arrived, he found himself standing on a golden river that seed to be flowing forward endlessly. The current moved beneath his feet without disturbing his balance, carrying him nowhere while simultaneously carrying him everywhere.
All around him was a stellar environnt that held sparkling multicolored lights etched across the expanse as if they were stars scattered by a guiding hand. They burned with colors that shouldn’t have coexisted, crimson beside azure beside gold beside shades that had no nas in any language.
Each of these supposed stars had strings they were connected to.
These strings extended outward to the edge of perception itself, gossar threads of fate that linked artifacts to destinies, treasures to those worthy of claiming them. The entire Mouseion was a web of predetermined connections, a place where what was ant to be found would be found by those ant to find it.
Behind him, the figure of Glossikos looked at him with an inquisitive gaze.
"All of us study and revere The First Tongue."
Her voice was musical.
"It is rare to find soone like you who calls themselves THE Tongue Whisperer. One who has mastered what we spend eons rely attempting to comprehend."
She gestured toward the stellar expanse around them.
"Because we revere The First Tongue, myself and a few others take care of THE Mouseion of Fated Artifacts. Over ti, we ca to understand a few of its secrets."
Her wooden features held sothing like pride.
"If anyone is fated for anything in here, they release a glimr of their Civilization. If they are fated with anything, it cos down for them. The strings part. The barriers dissolve. What is ant to be claid descends into waiting hands."
She paused.
"We tried to contribute ourselves and found that we gained rit points whenever we added things to this place that are claid. The thod to do that is right there."
She pointed toward an area to the side of the golden river.
An elevated pedestal rose from the flowing current, its base sohow anchored despite the endless movent beneath it. Atop the pedestal was a swirling golden platform that churned with authority similar to the river itself but concentrated, focused, purposeful.
It looked like an altar.
An altar where offerings could be made to fate itself.
Hah!
Noah walked up to it as his treasure chest followed behind him, the blue-gold container hovering faithfully at his side. He ca to stand before the elevated pedestal on the edge of the golden river, and the mont he stood before it, information flowed into his existence.
|Mouseion Protocol Detected|
|THE Mouseion of Fated Artifacts is a place where rit can be granted depending on anything contributed|
|The rit is awarded only when what has been contributed is claid by the one that is fated|
|If nobody fated claims it, no rit will be awarded|
|The contribution will remain in the Mouseion until its fated recipient arrives|
|This could be monts. This could be eons. Ti is irrelevant to fate|
|Place what you wish to contribute on the pedestal, and it shall be included in the vaults of THE Mouseion|
...!
Noah’s eyes shone sharply at this.
He didn’t waste too much ti.
He proceeded to wave his hands, and the treasure chest behind him ca forward at his command. It floated over the golden river, past his position, and landed on the golden platform with weight that made the pedestal tremble.
The Antinomia Prismatica.
The uninfected core of THE Primordial Paradox.
Hidden inside layers of Undifferentiated Fate and Philologies and Archai of The First Tongue.
Waiting to be claid by the one fated to receive it.
Waiting to be claid by Noah himself, eons from now!
Everything shimred in golden light.
The platform blazed with radiance that painted the stellar environnt in shades of pure authority. The strings that connected the countless stars above trembled as if acknowledging the arrival of sothing significant. Sothing that would change the nature of fate itself within this space.
A golden string fell down from the endless skyscape above.
It descended with purpose, with inevitability, with the weight of destiny given physical form. The string connected with the treasure chest, wrapping around it like a gentle embrace from existence itself.
Monts later, the chest got pulled up.
It rose from the pedestal, following the golden string toward the stellar expanse above. Higher and higher it climbed, becoming smaller and smaller until it was just another point of light among countless others.
Then it disappeared into oblivion.
Gone!
Hidden among the infinite artifacts of THE Mouseion of Fated Artifacts.
Noah didn’t feel any sense of panic as he watched it disappear.
He knew where it was going. He knew who would claim it. He knew that the fated recipient was himself, and that the fate binding it to him was a fate he had created through his own choices.
He turned around calmly.
The figure of the future Absolute, Glossikos, raised her brows. She looked at him with an expression that mixed curiosity and confusion in equal asure.
"Do you not wish to release the light of your Civilization to see if you have anything fated in here?"
Her question was reasonable.
Most beings who contributed to THE Mouseion imdiately checked to see if anything was fated for them in return. It was common courtesy to oneself. A chance at claiming treasures that destiny had prepared.
At such words, Noah smiled.
"I will co claim what is fated for later on."
His voice held knowing that transcended what should have been possible.
"Who knows. Perhaps at that point in ti, you will also be there to witness it."
BOOM!
He said these words cryptically.
He knew his other body in the distant, distant future was with Glossikos at this very mont. That version of himself was entering THE Mouseion, preparing to claim sothing that he believed destiny had prepared for him.
And it had.
Just not in the way anyone would expect.
But the Glossikos here shook her head as if she was staring at a crazy person.
Noah didn’t explain.
He took a step backward, leaving the domain of THE Mouseion without even bothering to look around. The stellar environnt faded. The golden river disappeared beneath his feet. The countless strings of fate retreated from his perception.
He returned to The Thermae of Cyclic Refinent!
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