Noah’s eyes were radiant as he processed what she was offering.
Did he really come across another old babbler who would talk and talk and talk to reveal things about existence he did not know? He had encountered beings like this before, ancient existences who could not resist sharing their accumulated wisdom with anyone who showed even marginal interest.
Okay old hag, he thought. We love listening to babblers.
So he humored her and asked with genuine curiosity, "What is the oldest Echo?"
Naldine’s expression shifted to something approaching solemnity, her features taking on weight. The blue singularities in her white eyes slowed their orbiting, as if even they recognized the significance of what was coming.
"Listen well, for these words predate most of what currently exists."
Her voice dropped to cadence that felt ancient, each syllable pressing against THE Primordial Archive with heaviness that made even the Grimoires seem young by comparison.
"An Architect shall build a beacon born of strife,
Where adversity becomes the cornerstone of life.
A peasant clothed in rags shall swallow evolution whole,
And through consumption find the fragments of a greater whole.
Architects shall watch from heights where slumber is their throne,
While Cognizances guide in idle patterns yet unknown.
The Source forgotten or remembered, burning dim or bright,
And Infinity shall flicker between the dark and light.
When the leap is made between what is defined and not,
Between the differentiated and the formless thought,
There shall be glory rising, Scales ascending high,
Or there shall be the Splintering beneath an endless sky.
The choice that is not choice, the path that is not path,
The calculation made before the aftermath.
All things return to what they were before they came to be,
Or all things rise to heights that none have lived to see."
...!
BOOM!
When she spoke the words, they felt so unfathomably ancient and heavy that Noah could sense them pressing against his foundations with glory that had nothing to do with Naldine’s personal authority!
These were not her words. These were words that had existed since THE First Cause itself, patterns of probability that had embedded themselves into the fabric of Observable Existence before most of what currently lived had even begun to differentiate.
The rivers of Infinity around him buzzed in response.
Naldine looked at Noah, whose eyes now burned with visible Infinity, blue light blazing from his gaze as he processed what he had just heard.
"Just to knock down your Gamaidjan a bit."
Her voice carried cold amusement.
"Your name and weavings were not even mentioned within one of the oldest Echoes. This is just to check your ego, to tell you that you are not everything. Existence is vast. It was vast before you, and it will be vast after you. Whatever role you play in what is coming, it is a role among many roles, not the singular protagonist you may believe yourself to be."
Noah ignored her last words entirely.
His attention had fixed upon the oldest Echo with intensity that blocked out everything else within THE Primordial Archive. He was repeating it in his mind again and again, each word examined and reexamined as he searched for what he could decipher from its ancient patterns.
All things return to what they were before they came to be, Or all things rise to heights that none have lived to see.
Fuck, that was good!
An Architect shall build a beacon born of strife.
A peasant clothed in rags shall swallow evolution whole.
There shall be glory rising, Scales ascending high, or there shall be the Splintering beneath an endless sky.

"With any Echo of possibilities, you and I and many others can perceive it differently."
"When some hear ’All things return to what they were before they came to be, or all things rise to heights that none have lived to see,’ there are those like me who prefer the rise to heights."
"And then there are those who want things to return to what they were."
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