The moment this word was uttered, green brilliance came from everywhere he was simultaneously!
It rose from his skin and from the points where the woman’s hands held him and from the surface of the obsidian sea beneath his body, green flames that carried nothing of ordinary fire’s qualities except the shape. These flames didn’t burn in the destructive sense.
They burned in the way that transformation burned, consuming what existed in order to produce what would exist, the process irreversible and complete and moving at a pace that left no interval for the being it was working on to recognize themselves in the mirror of what they were becoming!
The woman leaned back from the heat of it and even she was consumed in it!
The flames roared with purpose and with power that carried no fixed ceiling, the green blazing higher and wider as the process accelerated, the obsidian sea reflecting the color back in surfaces that had never reflected green before and would remember the reflection for as long as they existed.
Then the flames died.
The young woman looked.
The young man she had been holding was not the being that stood before her now. He stood at twice the scale of what he had been, his frame expanded in every dimension with the new proportions of something that had been rebuilt during the flames rather than simply grown larger.
His garments had not survived the transition intact, the fabric stretched across a physique that had not existed when the fabric was fitted.
Verdant tattoos burned across his arms and chest in patterns that pulsed with independent life, as though the transformation had written its record directly onto his skin in a language that moved.
He looked at his hands.
Then he spoke the letter again.
"Exelissomai."
He became larger. More powerful. More immense!
He spoke it again!
And again!
BOOM!
Each utterance produced what the first had produced, the transformation building on the prior transformation rather than returning to the baseline, the green flames became blue and gold and all sorts of flames briefer with each iteration but more concentrated, the change compounding into something that the initial utterance’s result would not have recognized as its continuation.
By an unknown number of utterances, the young man was no longer visible in what stood on the obsidian sea.
What stood there was a titan.
Its scale exceeded what Noah had encountered across the full expanse of his engagements in THE Braneworld Observable Existence, its presence pressing outward through the vision with the compound weight of a being for whom the categories Noah used to measure power had stopped being adequate descriptors.
Obsidian light surrounded it in seas, the obsidian warmth of THE Primordial Source saturating the titan’s presence so thoroughly that the saturation itself became the defining feature of what Noah was looking at.
It exceeded Sir William Arthur.
The titan’s eyes held obsidian pupils shaped like wings.
They turned.
They found Noah across the space of the vision with the specific directness of cognizance that had registered his presence and had made a decision to address it.
The titan spoke.
"It is the process of changing over time." His voice carried the archaic measured weight of something that had been speaking for longer than most things had existed to listen to.
"Evolution in its most sacred form. It is the butterfly remembering the caterpillar while being utterly incapable of returning to that state. The river becoming ocean while the memory of mountain springs still flows through its depths."
He held Noah’s gaze with the obsidian wing-pupiled eyes. "Growth so fundamental that the being who emerges can barely recognize the being who began. The letter that allows one to begin taking rapid steps toward THE Source itself."
A pause that carried the weight of genuine consideration. "The bricks that lay down an endless foundation...that is what Exelissomai is."
WAA!
"I am curious, Osmont. I...am curious."
BOOM!

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