The Primordial Paradox raised his hands, and where he stood the fight bent, two things true at once. Noah pushed his old Infinity into the man’s dream of catching the impossible whole, and the contradiction around him got deeper!
Dark soldiers who struck at him found they had both struck and not struck, couldn’t settle which, and stood there with their weapons out while the fight went past them.
Descartes and Erwin held the side as he helped them the only other way he had.
He reached across the folds, into the storage of his own Realm, and drew out the thing he’d carried since Vasileia burned.
The skeleton of a Provenance Lifeform. Aurelius’s gift, the dim golden bones from the sacred spring, the ones Descartes had asked him for before they parted. A corpse of a Provenance Lifeform, no reason given.
Noah didn’t know what Descartes wanted it for. He didn’t need to. Through the dream, spending his own Provenance this time instead of his Infinity, he set the golden skeleton down beside the man in the middle of the fight, quiet, unremarked, a thing that was suddenly there where nothing had been.
|Provenance spent to manifest a requested object into the dreamed narrative.|
|-5 PROVENANCE ESSENCE.|
Descartes’ hand closed on the bones like he’d been waiting for them, and something on his side changed that Noah didn’t fully follow.
Descartes had asked for a dead Provenance Lifeform and given no reason, and a man who dreamed of turning the world back into a thing of the mind didn’t ask for corpses idly. Whatever the bones were to him, they were part of an argument he was building, and Noah had just handed him the piece!
Noah was learning bit by bit.
What mattered the most was...placement. The Immense Ones ruled by pressing down, laying their frames over the folds and making everything climb inside. Noah was doing the opposite thing from the same height.
He wasn’t making anyone bigger than their dream. He was letting each of them be exactly as big as their dream already said they were, and clearing the small things in the way. Quiet work. It left no marks!
And it grew his own Provenance while he did it, because for THE Human Dreamer, helping a dream come true was the same act as dreaming.
|Provenance rises as you shepherd the dreams of others toward their fullness.|
|+6 PROVENANCE ESSENCE.|
—
|THE OVERSEEING ONE frowns.|
|His heroes are not dying on schedule.|
The fight turned, slow, the way Noah had pushed it. The Peacemaker’s shots cut deeper than they should. The Primordial Paradox held a stretch of ground that should have folded.
Eckert’s quiet unity had gone into a third of the dark army with not one purple eye to show for it. And whatever Descartes had done with the bones was holding the side that should have broken first.
None of it looked like help from outside. That was the point! Each hero was just doing what his dream said he could do, a little more than he should have managed, and no eye looking down would find a hand behind any of it. They were rising. That was all. Heroes rose!
But the Dark Lord didn’t fall.
He stood at the center and let the fight come to him, and where his power touched, the heroes’ new strength just stopped being strength. The Peacemaker’s deeper shots hit his shadow and came apart into nothing.
The Primordial Paradox’s held ground met the shadow and stopped being held. Even Eckert’s crept unity, reaching at last for the middle, thinned as it got near him, because you can’t turn a mind on a thing whose ground has been pulled out from under it.
The heroes rose, and the Dark Lord ate what they rose with, and the fight ground toward a wall.
—
|THE OVERSEEING ONE senses another gaze upon his narrative.|
HUUM!
|THE OVERSEEING ONE assumes a peer has come to watch.|
|He is embarrassed.|

|THE OVERSEEING ONE will not be seen to author a narrative that falters.|
|He lends the Dark Lord his backing.|


"I didn’t ask for your power," he said. "I didn’t ask for the part, or the enemies, or the ending you drew for all of us."
WAA!
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