Every action had an equal and opposite reaction.
Every choice had a consequence.
Noah stared at the man- a being who had become a Dead Thing- someone who had made countless choices across a long life, all of them leading here.
To this.
A prison of Noah's making. And unless something drastic happened like shattering another Dead Absolute Complex True Source-getting out would be nearly impossible.
Yet Bob remained calm, surrounded by the weavings of the True Source of Ruination, his mind remarkably intact. He called out, his voice unwavering.
"My daughter. I do all of this for my daughter. She's locked within this Absolute Complex True Source of Existence."
His eyes flicked to the black Wheel of Existence that hovered beside him, its weavings unbearably complex. At the center, untouched, was a soul he had never dared to disturb.
