The center of the gigaparsec-wide Dimension was reduced to a churning, ruined sea of crimson gold Sanguine Mana and shattered reality.
Descartes stood at the edge of the destruction. The old philosopher kept his unfathomable gaze fixed on his two disciples. THE Primordial Paradox and Erwin flickered violently, trapped in a constant, agonizing state of paradox.
Descartes fed them his own authority, ensuring they remained simultaneously alive and dead, here and not, refusing to let the residual Provenance Cause of Existential Terminus claim their existences.
Once he stabilized them, Descartes turned and floated over the sea of blood to stop near Noah.
"Existence loves and loathes Those Who Remain for the exact same reason," Descartes said.
"It loves what they can do, and it loathes what they can do. They have free reign to author the epochs, but they also have restrictions. They can succeed, and they can fail. They failed here."
