The white weapons fell!
Lances of woven loomlight rained down from the many-sided head of the Woe Culture as turning wheels of stellar white carved through the unseen sky, and the nine clones of THE True Human Emperor scattered across the heavens as detonations of crimson gold met an authority older than the frameworks themsleves!
And through all of it, the vast thing was still trying to understand.
"You strike me even now," its heavy voice boomed as three of its long legs swept a clone out of the sky, hair-fine threads bending fortune so that every dodge arrived a breath late!
"And I strike you, because you would end me, and I preserve myself. But I do not understand you, Little One! This... is what I am? I am a Woe Culture? I am simply living as I should, emulating the Primevals and THE First Lifeforms. You would hunt me because of my nature? Others have passed through here and seen me and not done anything. We simply nod to each other. Why not you?"
Others!
