At the words of the Foldless One, Altheon, Master Neinoro rose tall as if vindicated by the very air, brushing imaginary dust from his white robes as the glow of the Living Origin Authority curled protectively around him. His tone rang with clean-cut indignation, each syllable sharpened like a knife.
"It makes sense now!" he declared. "One Master of Existence distastefully devouring others, and another murdering him in turn. It all stinks of contradiction... of chaos... of Paradox!"
HUUM!
Paradox!
It was always paradox that was problematic. Since the Earliest Folds!
He turned toward Noah as if pronouncing a sentence. "The bane of all existence."
The words slithered like venom through the gathering.
He swept his arms outward, not toward Noah, but to all the Masters and Primarchs floating on frost-covered branches and Yggdrasil roots. His voice rose, carried on falsified concern and hollow leadership.
