Damian had his existence standing ready, and he was genuinely curious.
What was the gap between someone at the Ninth Circle and a Primum Ancestor? How wide was it, and did the width matter to THE Primordial Tongue?
These were legitimate questions, not rhetorical ones. He wanted the information. He had been accumulating information since the moment the Primordial Source opened in his chest above the Dominion of Crimson Stone and had not stopped accumulating it since.
His own existence had not been standing still!
Since gaining access to THE Primordial Source, his Mana had been taking on an obsidian hue, a gradual shift that he had been tracking with the part of his attention not occupied by other things. Slivers of THE Primordial Source were flowing through him in a continuous quiet process, merging with his Mana and making it denser and more compressed in ways that his Mana Core registered as ongoing rather than completed.
