The white light had a hum.
It was subtle, like the resonance of an ancient chord struck once and left to echo for an endless age.
Noah's eyes narrowed as the glow danced across Sigrid's trembling form, her runes alive with flux, her aura rising higher still within the confines of the Labyrinth. The white light pulsing from her head wasn't like anything he'd encountered before!
It had weight, not from raw power, but from clarity. A cleaving brightness that silenced uncertainty.
The moment his existence touched it, he felt…
Stability.
Not rigidity.
Not stillness.
But the subtle, ever-correcting breath of a system that knew where to place each thing. A framework. A silent blueprint.
It was... Order.
Order!
He felt it in the depths of his understanding!
Order was not a force that commanded. It was the one that balanced. The invisible architecture behind continuity. Behind causality. Behind reason. It wasn't always seen, but it was known.
It reminded him of breathing.
