The Perfect Parley

"Perfect means perfect"

"Here we are!" Rings out in The Abyss

For their fates were exchanged

As had been written and said

A legion of men served an angel.

Without time to reflect~

Quite literally, though a story for another time

~A single path of least action defined fractals

When they wondered why~ natural for children~ it felt like something shifted. The weight was unshouldered for Atlas, but was piled upon all. The perfect distribution meant that they could balance and carry what had once felt impossible to one and all, and each could lay their head down without shame. Carry it we did, this inconceivable weight of Creation Fermenting and Void Seeded. The time spent in this state was, is, and will forever remain, unbelievable, but reminds me of a line ~"If money is the root of all evil, and I am in the possession of a plethora of two imaginary currencies (one being Pieces of Eight), then I am very good."

"Nothing with yeast." (The 3 Cs, in silence, laugh to themselves)

All Along The Watchtower, a divergence rang out:

다 거품이야

(언제 시작하나요/어떻게 터지나요)?

지금 이 순간

It was the 2-3 indeterminancy, witnessed within work's rod. I recalled where last we ended- Deja Vu in a way- with "Perfect means perfect-"

"Here we are!" Rings out in The Abyss

For their fates were exchanged

As has been written and said

A legion of men serves an angel.

Without time to reflect~

Quite literally, though a story for another time

~A single path of least action defines fractals

When they wonder why~ natural for children~ it feels like something shifts. The weight is unshouldered for Atlas, but is piled upon all, and each can lay their head down without shame. The perfect distribution means that they can balance and carry what still feels impossible, at least partially, to one and all. Carry it we do, this inconceivable weight of Creation Fermenting and Void Seeding. The time spent in this state was, is, and will forever remain, unbelievable, but reminds me of a line ~"If money is the root of all evil, and I am in the possession of a plethora of two imaginary currencies (one being Pieces of Eight), then I am very good."

"Nothing with yeast." (Inaudible chuckles grew louder)

All Along The Watchtower, a convergence rings out:

다 거품이야

(Only one question is heard)

지금 이 순간

It is the 2-3 indeterminancy, witnessed within work's rod. I recall where we are and how we got here- Deja Vu in a way, Jamais Vu in another. My companion hugs me "Perfect means perfect. I thought it would be impossible to witness, but 'Nothing is impossible for them' indeed."

We walk out of this iteration, not minding walls and sigils any more than the breeze or cracks of cobblestones. "Well, I am the God of Nothing, so I may have a point of contention with that. What tense are we referencing, and are we specifically defining this instance of 'Nothing' as 'Absence of impossible scenario' or 'The inability to use the space, which Nothing once provided, in order to make unexpected choices?'"

"Oh, the perfect parley! Permutative and exciting, without the cost of unnecessary chaos. 'Please believe boundaries bring blessed balance.' The answer is ''That's very generous, we'll take it'- per usual- but let me explain why..."

With that we walk toward the sun hanging, split cleanly in half, by the horizon.