The moment was surreal.
Days ago, a measure of time that felt both impossibly long and laughably short…the very concept of an Inevitability had been a distant, terrifying abstraction.
They were the stuff of legends, the mindless hunger that pruned the branches of existence!
If someone had told him then that he would one day stand on a shore of his own making, with a newborn, fifty-trillion-purity Inevitability nudging affectionately against his chest like a housecat seeking attention, he would have deemed them fucking insane.
Those Inevitabilities? The ones that devoured everything? Hah!
Yet, here he was.
He ran a hand over the writhing, paradoxical surface of the creature before him. The tentacles were not solid, not liquid, but something in between, a texture like solidified impossibility that was both smooth and infinitely complex.
They pulsed with a gentle warmth, a nascent, innocent hunger that had not yet learned the cruelty of the wider Folds.
