The Dead Wheel trembled.
Living Origin Authority streamed into its ancient spokes, flooding through fractured channels like a river reclaiming the veins of a long-dead creature. Bob knelt before it, his body bowed, his eyes unwavering. Each breath was heavy. Each heartbeat carried strain.
He was giving Living Origin Authority to what had known only death!
But the cost bled through him.
His Authority was vast, newly bloomed, still unfamiliar in its scope. But it wasn't infinite. It burned hot, radiant with intent, but he could feel the edges fraying. It was not enough- not when what he aimed to awaken had slept for what felt like eons!
So he gave more.
HUUM!
More than Authority. More than essence.
He even gave some of the seed of himself- the bloom that had started it all, that singular beginning that marked him as something more than he had ever dreamed.
He gave it to her.
The Inevitability roared behind him.
A sound of wrath. A sound of hunger betrayed.
It knew.
