The Stillness was not quiet. It was absolute.
It stretched across the edges of the Egoverse like a forgotten breath—where time slowed, thought dulled, and motion became myth. In this realm, even light hesitated. Even gravity seemed bored.
Sloth drifted through it like fog, its form barely defined. It had no face, no voice, no urgency. It was not asleep. It was beyond waking.
It did not build empires. It did not crave power. It simply waited—for everything to stop.
And Pride never stopped.
That was the offense.
Pride moved with purpose, spoke with conviction, ruled with presence. Sloth found it exhausting. Not because it opposed Pride—but because Pride existed too loudly.
Greed's whisper had reached Sloth like a ripple in a stagnant pond.
"Join us. Slow him. Drown him."
Sloth did not answer. It simply began.
It extended its Stillness toward the Palace of Mirrors, and the Egoverse began to drag. Reflections blurred. Thoughts took longer to form. Pride's aura flickered—not from weakness, but from delay.
Sloth did not attack. It did not invade.
It eroded.
And Pride, for the first time, felt the weight of time pressing against its will.
In the Stillness, Sloth whispered—not with sound, but with absence.
"You are noise. I am silence."
And the Mirror trembled.