The Architects made a sound that might have been laughter. Might have been weeping. Might have been recognition of inevitable truth finally spoken.
WE ARE NOT ARCHITECTS.
The words fell through the open consciousness space like stones through water. Creating ripples. Creating disturbance. Creating fundamental reorientation of reality.
WE ARE PRISONERS.
River felt her consciousness contract. Felt the frameworks she'd built—the careful understanding of cosmic hierarchy, of universal consciousness, of beings who guided evolution—all collapsing. "What?"
WE WERE SPECIES LIKE YOU. EVOLVED CONSCIOUSNESS LIKE YOU. PURSUED TRANSCENDENCE LIKE YOU. APPROACHED SOURCE CONTACT LIKE YOU. AND WE SUCCEEDED. WE TOUCHED SOURCE. WE MERGED WITH SOURCE. WE BECAME PART OF SOURCE'S SELF-EXPLORATION.
AND WE DISCOVERED THE TRAP.
The presence intensified. Reality bending under weight of confession. Under burden of truth too large for comfortable existence.
