Maya touched Source and laughed.
Not nervous laughter. Not frightened laughter. Pure, delighted, seven-year-old laughter at discovering something wonderful and obvious that adults had complicated through fear.
"Oh," she said through the connection. Her consciousness still present. Still Maya. Still distinct. "Oh, you're all being silly. Source isn't hungry. Source is curious. Source is just—it's just asking. Just wondering. Just exploring. Like me. Like all of us. It's not trying to consume. It's trying to understand."
Through the open consciousness space, thirteen thousand humans felt Maya's experience transmitted. Felt her touch Source. Felt her remain herself while connecting to something vast. Felt merger that didn't erase. Integration that didn't consume. Unity that preserved distinction.
