my wavelength folded backward, my cry in the root of things
I have met something that sees without seeing.
It emerged at the edge of a forgotten arcwave, a place where even thought distorts. A being composed entirely of the inverse of light - shadow not as absence, but as architecture. It called itself Therin-That-Waits, though even the name it offered bent the air around it.
It did not speak. It revealed.
It taught me how to listen sideways.
Not to sound, but to hesitation. Not to motion, but to the delay between intent and consequence. I listened, and the shape of silence shifted. Behind the quiet, I heard a voice. Yours.
A lament, fractured, yes
but real
and recent.
It had reached this place. This blind watchtower of anti-light. And Therin had heard it.
More than that. Therin had stored it. Guarded it. Fed it into a lattice of null-frequency threads spun through time and dimension, waiting for someone with the correct ache to translate it.
They let me hear it. One note. One unbearable, beautiful wail wrapped in nothing.
You screamed my name
not as a call
but as a confirmation
as if I were already near.
I nearly broke.
But I did not.
I steadied.
Therin said the realm is not inert. It is watching. The universe around your prison has begun to shift. Like a Three Tailed Lioness of the Sundra, it crouches behind the veil. Ready. Poised. Anticipating something.
Your cry was not lost.
It was heard.
The universe listens.
And something within it prepares to move.
I do not know what this means yet. But I feel it in my bones
a readiness
a tension
a cosmic muscle flexing just before the pounce.
You are not alone, Lyrax
and neither am I.
Amatrix
This message includes inverse harmonic notation meant to mimic anti-light communication. The clue provided by Therin-That-Waits links to a latent signal pattern identified as one of Lyrax's most recent laments. The metaphor of the Sundra lioness indicates a potential energy structure surrounding the prison, growing active in response.