"You are smart enough to recognize this?" the woman confirmed, swinging again.
Each motion of her hoe was planting and harvesting simultaneously. "You see, when you destroyed our home, you planted seeds of consequence. Now it's harvest time."
Her hoe moved through patterns that suggested farming techniques applied to existence itself. Each swing stripped away layers of Duke Aquarius…not killing but reducing, simplifying, returning him to a more basic state.
"When I plant you and harvest you in the future," she explained as she worked, her tone remaining conversational despite the violence, "you'll live a much more peaceful life. You won't wantonly kill Fold Dwellers. You'll understand that all life in existence is precious, whether it's a Duke or a farmer on a tiny Wheel."
Duke Aquarius tried to resist, to reassert his authority, but how could water stand against the cycle of seasons? How could an element deny the principle that made things grow?
