“Has the working happened?”
Silence is the response. No answer. I am Lord of my domain, all that I survey is beholden to me, my vassals shrink in terror at my presence, afraid of answering a simple question.
“If failure is happening, vanquishing you is in the not.”
“Happening is partial, my God,” comes the hesitant reply.
Progress, finally. “Further the detail.”
“Only a thin slice, Lord God, lasting barely seconds. Fractional meaning. Incomplete presence. Insufficient to sustain.”
How long will it take? How many attempts by these insects?
Intensification of presence not because of magnitude or force but proximity. Two minds… two people…? Voices, not heard, but certainly communication between these two entities. Sensing an internal mentality to one of them — the one I can sense the inside of — has more force to it than the other. It moves closer, intensifies.
Singular attenuation manifests internal implosion, instant psychic decompression. Gone.