What are you?
The question was not raised in alarm.
It was spoken heavily and quietly by a being whose presence bore the weight of silence itself!
A Foldless One, sovereign and unfathomable as even this loss of composure was a rarity.
Moiraine's golden-white countenance remained still, though the light surrounding her dimmed imperceptibly, as though existence itself paused to await her verdict.
Behind her unreadable gaze was a calculation vast enough to drown Existence.
Oryzarakh hovered behind Noah, titanic and unmoving as his presence suffocated all fluctuation in this place.
Noah's body was impaled.
Chains- formed of paradox and heavy with complexity, pierced his limbs and spine. They ran like unbreakable filaments through his torso, shoulders, and skull.
Golden blood, iridescent and unyielding, dripped in slow, dignified lines onto the chains.
He did not writhe in pain. He did not flinch.
He thought. His gaze was clear. The analysis began with his own state of being.
