Outside the Infiniverse.
The assembled forces of the Living Existences, a congregation of beings who could unmake Wheels with a thought, were staring.
Their gazes, filled with a mixture of awe, dread, and a profound, galling sense of irrelevance as they stared ahead.
This was right after Schrodinger had called out that he wanted to communicate with The Early Creature, Osmont!
Whispers, not of sound but of pure, conceptual data, rippled through the ranks.
Many of the older Dukes, their forms ancient and terrible, recognized the woman beside the beggar-paradox. Leonore Rureaux. A name that was a ghost, a legend whispered in the darkest corners of their history.
A being who had supposedly fallen in a blaze of glory eons ago, a martyr for the cause of Paradox. And yet, here she stood, frail but undeniably present.
The Living Origins were quieter as if they knew some sort of secret.
As if to add another layer of impossibility to the scene, more Living Paradoxes were arriving.
