Noah sat within the scorching golden waters of THE Vasiliou Primordial Spring, steam rolling off his stellar body, and grasped THE Obsidian Journal of Masamuk with both hands.
The cover was warm, worn smooth by an eternity of small handling, and it drank the spring's golden light without returning a single gleam. He held it, and he thought of exactly one thing.
Immense Ones!
He had just been tortured by one. He had hung spread beneath a lidless eye while trillions of needles hunted his loves through his quarks, and he had felt the difference between reading about a terror and being held in its hand!
His knowledge of the architects was a pile of secondhand fragments, warnings, and taunts. That was no longer acceptable. If he was going to survive these beings, and eventually bury them, he wanted to understand much more about them!
'Show me,' Noah thought into the warm obsidian. 'Immense Ones. Everything you rambled about them.'
HUUM!
The journal answered!
