"THE Creature was born. THE Creature will die, or is already dead. THE Living Existences can be killed just like you and I. Just look at THE Living Order. Deader than Dead. All of them…They eat. They shit. They hate. They fear. They may be higher on the Scale of Existence than us… but they are still that. Existences. I will never fucking idolize them. Not ever again."
…!
His words were heavy, each one a stone dropped into the silent, contemplative pool of the garden.
Malphas looked down, his own thoughts a swirling vortex of loyalty and doubt.
Noah's eyes, however, shone with a bright, tyrannical light. "THE Creature had his Way of Existence, and we have our own," he declared, his voice a calm, absolute verdict. "Yes, we are no different. Regardless of what happened in the past that we do not know, it is the present and future that matter the most. So… this Shelter. Where is it, and how can the vast lifeforms of all Folds be relocated in it to survive The Fallout?"
…!
