Glow Rat Blue (heat death): Boswell

The magical cross is an integration of the worth of mortals at the expense of their spirits. Surround it with the triangle and you begin to see the Triune house. It becomes divided into corners, which are ruled by our brethren, the Four Corners: BAL DAGON MALAC SHEOG. Rotate the triangle and you pierce the heart of the Beginning Place, the foul lie, the testament of the irrefutable-for-a-span. Above them all is the horizon where only one stands, though no one stands there yet. It is proof of the new. It is the promise of the wise. Unfold the whole and what you have is a star, which is not my domain, but not entirely outside my judgment. The grand design takes flight; it is transformed not only into a star but a hornet. The center cannot hold. It becomes devoid of lines and points. It becomes devoid of anything and so becomes a receptacle. This is its usefulness at the end. This is its promise.

--Vehk

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Glow Rat Blue said, "I am the inscrutable act of being that is not, its consistency of activity, its alteration, and its stasis."

Glow Rat Blue bowed, its (His? Her? We shall selectively employ his for lack of a more generic yet less impersonal pronoun) hair fell over his masked be-ribboned face, for a moment shadowing the single visible green-brown-grey-allshattered eye. "I feel like a child-god allowed to play in the castles of my makers," he repeated, though his voice was neither clearly male nor female, nor even clearly human, mortal, nor anything that might have ever walked the earth before he did. His predecessors might, if truth be told, by the suggestion of the intonation, have crawled below it. Speak not of demons, reader, but of earthworms. Noble and blind and wise, and imagine the creatures that ate them for the strength to spawn themselves, and in time, spawned him.

"Why must act have stasis?" he asked. "Because constant change must sometimes change as far as to be its own opposite. Otherwise it has no definition and therefore, no act. It need not be defined with words, nor thoughts, but its act is its definition, its description is its name. Such am I, so are we all. Possibly."

Glow Rat Blue sat down beside a stream that was there because it had to be. She (for her aspect now behind the mask and helm of bone and layers of cloth seemed feminine) touched it, and it ceased to run.

She asked, "Is it still a stream?"

He pulled away his hand, and there lay en empty bed of dirt where water once flowed.

He asked, "Is it still a stream?"

It did nothing, and it was the ground, the same as the ground where he sat.

It asked, "Am I still the stream?"

Anything you answer is correct.

--GRB