His eyes, which had burned with silver conviction moments before, now blazed with crimson light that overwrote everything he had believed himself to be. His purpose, his mission, his certainty, all of it dissolved into undifferentiation that served a will older than THE Infinite Unfurling.
A booming ancient voice echoed across the vastness with weight that pressed against the very concept of hearing.
"YOU ARE ALL NOW SLAVES OF THE PRIMORDIAL ARCHITECT, HORUS."
The words were not loud. They were simply everywhere.
"TOIL AWAY AND ELEVATE YOURSELVES FOR HORUS."
Each syllable carried the weight of commandment that preceded the existence of language.
"BUILD YOUR CIVILIZATIONS FOR HORUS."
The instructions were simple. The obedience they demanded was absolute.
"TOIL, AND PERSEVERE."
...!
