The white mountain rose from the white sea like a knuckle pressed up through a bed of snow.
Its slopes caught the pale light of the ambient authority that flowed through this corner of THE Wyld, the stone of it a polished ivory that had never weathered.
On a broad stone terrace halfway up the mountain's southern slope, three Primordial Architects occupied the moment.
Two of them were sparring.
Both operated at the Calymmian Tier of THE Proterozoic Scale. One stood tall and narrow, his skin a deep bronze that held faint geometric scarring across his shoulders and arms. His Axiom was a long curved blade of compressed Observable Force that hummed with a low crimson undertone as he moved. His opponent was squat and powerful, his body built in the proportions of an old wrestler refined across centuries into something more dangerous.
The squat one fought with his hands and feet alone, his palms glowing with a concentrated green authority that left afterimages in the pale air.
