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Opening
I walk against the current of grey — upstream along the river of the Void, toward the place it seeps into the world.
Here, at the mute source of the ether, I hear it clearly for the first time: the Void is neither blind nor random. Someone is pouring it.
Ending
The source shudders — and for a moment the ether sings again.
Out of the silence strides Theron, Warden of the First Ray: "I guarded this wellspring until I fell mute myself. You woke me — now lead."
Now I know: the Void has a source. And the source has a master. The Voice beyond the Maw calls me by name.





