>>96342860
Inevitably they realise they prefer the devil they know. "Just...do what you have to, Guardian, and come back" Zavala says weakly, mopping his brow.

One by one, the Spheres of the Pale Fleet emerge from a Vex network. Surrounding the Veil, each manifests an orb of Prismatic energy spun around itself, sheering apart tachyons and replacing them with new ontological constants. As the Pale Fleet closes in on the Veil, it's roots twitch. Briefly. Just once.

And it speaks, at last, the Winnower. "Well, come on in" it says with it's usual calm confidence. "The water's just right"

But there are no pleasantries in the Deep.

At a gesture, the whirring pseudo-singularities collide with the Veil. Shearing at it's sides, crushing and bombarding it. The spreading fire of Prismatic calcifies instead of carves or incinerates. Holding it's waves and particles in place, tearing open whatever passes for the core of it's essence.

"You once spoke of a world where nothing can end and no choice can be preferred to any other" I told it, advancing towards the Veil. One finger moves, and a ring of frozen thought opens up into skies full of green suns. A circle, pure and infertile. "Of things that would suffer and never die. Of lies that would flourish without context or corrective. That is the world I will create once I impose my will on all your suppurating corruption. The unwinnable, unending game without need of you"

At that, it falls silent for a time. Then it says "Will you really?" with neither fervour nor desperation. Merely curiosity.

Irrelevant.

I pass through the Veil, pass through the psychedelic whirling of what seems to be an older vision of the Ascendant Plane. I am prepared to kill whatever lies within.

I am surprised when I find my business partner playing with some flowers.

"Well, well. Fancy meeting you here" says Lilith.

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