Noah stood barefoot, the light of his hands having called out his most recent Loot.
His Dozens of Treasure Chests and Caches spilling across the beach like a dawn that would not end! His palm hovered over the glimmering troves in quiet calculation. Every glowing cache was a breath closer to glory. Every chest, a thread in the ancient weave of what he was becoming.
He turned, letting his gaze fall upon the peculiar scene behind him. A scene so surreal that it might have broken the mind of lesser beings.
On elevated platforms of manifested Living Origin Towers, more than a dozen of crystal-clear Glass Woks simmered with Early Sacred Waters, white-gold flames dancing beneath them.
Moiraine stood tall and composed, handing Sacred Marine Bodies to Amelia Osmont, who with maternal calm explained precisely how everything should be arranged.
