Re: Re: Re :Re: Re: Re: Re: The Grand Failure - THE END

In the midst of nothing, Standford Price stood. A place where time had accelerated into oblivion, into dust. Then the dust delubricating the great wheels of Time's egress, forcing them to slow, to stop, to wear away. Standford Price stood. He thought he should be scared, but the emotion failed him. This was beyond terrifying, so far away from the basis of fear that in his mind, Standford felt nothing but a dull sense of flittering awe. Before him the shattered hourglass, infinitely high above and below, poured in a glittering waterfall the dust of time's remnant in a cloud around his feet - yet never touching, never striking Price's pricey suit. And somewhere in the back of his mind, a somewhere that he knew was no place at all but rather a time, a somewhen, he knew - had known - will have known - that to be fortunate. Volatile time broke about him on the surf of endless duration compressed into the infinitesimal dark and light of paradox, and to paradox they fell, dragging Standford Prince with them. Perhaps to be 'dragged' gave the wrong impression, but language lacks the veracity of the meanings it interprets. It was certain that he had had no choice, but Price was beyond caring.

And down, down - to the bottom of the 'verses, to the last word of the last stanza of the last, last verse. To the shattered remnants of a thousand worlds, each carrying within them the broken fragments of a thousand spacetimes, and in them the split shards of an infinite thousand events all roiled up in the ground detritus in the bottom of a bin...

And Standford Price dove into the shards, neither head nor body first but rather in a moment of instance, one moment void and the other shards. And they pierced his mind, his consciousness - and then he knew more than he ever wished to know, and held power in the way an abstraction could. There, in the heart of a thousand jewels of glittering time and space held frozen for all simultaneity, Standford Price learned his role. Born from a failure, without rules or cohesion, he would be its counterpoint - he would reason with a vengeance, with great swathes of convoluted logic creating his path and goal.

The Reasoner looked up as the dust of time flowed away from him, in the way time touches not the immortal. He contemplated for a moment returning to his own, old life - as most new to immortality are wont to do - and dismissed the notion. There was no going back; The Awesome had destroyed everything - everything -

He shed a few tears; it was reasonable to do so, for emotion's sake. But it was unreasonable to continue for too long. A nanoeternity passed, then idly he dragged his hand through the twisted timelines of the Paradox Shards. He caught one; peering at its shine he caught a glimpse of a planet inside a toroidal black hole, charging its superluminal engines from the wormhole's gravitational energies. He put it away, watching it flicker away in the streams of the neverwere.

"hey what are you doing?!?! the awesome said because he just showd up where standford price the resoner was 'i thought you were in my battle too why are you stil alive i killed everyone but macula''

It would be unreasonable to expect the Awesome to be anything but. Conflict, likewise, would benefit no one. The Reasoner smiled, just blandly enough to be disconcerting, and opened his briefcase. Without another word, he gathered in it a caseful of time, space and idea - and stepped apart and away, off to build a realm for his own.

and tehn stevan freman wa s dead but he was at peace because the aweosome was realy confused.