A profound chill settled into Yun Lintian's soul. This was worse than simple destruction. This was a perversion of free will on a cosmic scale.
The Creator, in her desire to protect, was now directing her followers into holy wars. Yin, in his embrace of uncreation, was fostering fanaticism and despair.
The lives he was witnessing were not their own. Their struggles, their sacrifices, their brief moments of joy and long eras of sorrow—it was all part of a game. The justice of the Light and the nihilism of the End were both just tools used by the players.
He saw a mother on a besieged world comfort her child, telling her the Creator would protect them. He saw a young man join the Heralds, believing he was bringing a merciful end to a suffering universe. Neither knew they were puppets, their strings pulled by forces they could barely comprehend.
