Grey stood in silence, waiting.
He crouched there in the frost, the chill not so much as icing his brows. He didn't flinch in it in the slightest.
Amunet's Recursive Frame was a machine built for exactly this. It didn't need to be clever. It only needed a source and enough passes, and every pass it kept a little more of what it had taken. It was like a brute force AI, dragging the both of them along, and their spatial aspects was exactly what was connecting the both of them.
It was precisely because of that affinity they had that there didn't need to be any real direct fusion between them.
But if there was one thing that Grey had learned after burning himself alive and into the body of the goblin, it was that Neural Frames were a lot more metaphysical than it seemed.
