The question did not so much echo as detonate — spreading outward through the fabric of existence in slow, inexorable waves, as though reality itself had been struck like a bell too enormous to comprehend. It moved through the Equilibrium Network in rippling pulses of pale light, threading its way across the countless worlds connected by that ancient web of sovereign authority, and everywhere it touched, everything stopped.
The guardians of Elarion fell silent.
The Judges, ancient beyond reckoning and hardened by ages of cosmic arbitration, froze where they stood.
Even the Void Echo — that terrible, formless child who had never once hesitated before anything — paused.
Which timeline produced you?
