Noah took the first unit of Eridarch Ore into his hand, and his existence reached out to claim it.
Tendrils of Infinity and THE Primordial Source uncoiled from him, latching onto the banded crystal the way tentacles latch onto something they intend to keep, and they did not mine it gently this time. They devoured it.
The Ore came apart in his grip, its bound Infinity drawn into his Infinity, its bound Primordial Source drawn into his Source, the whole of it pulled down into his existence, into THE Aura of THE Source Barbarian, into his Einherjar Source, into the completed framework of THE Genesis Scale of Existence.
He sat in the depths of THE Maw amid the raging storms of converted authority and began to feed, one unit after another, and as he fed, he spoke.
He spoke to himself, and to existence, and to the thing chained in his heart that could hear everything he was and would learn nothing it could use. It was the loudest possible declaration of holding on!
