"Great lord?"

His voice is soft. His voice is quiet. His voice rests on the exact pitch to cut through all noise.

"If your Emissary is, as you say, no longer of you, but his own distinct entity, then your offer of hospitality may well extend to him also. Though he can neither eat nor drink, your servant 20022 offered him tea, and that was sufficient to compel us to save him. You have even tended to his injuries, at some small, personal expense.”

Brilliant blue light pools around his feet. Brighter and brighter the opulent floor shines as the great Architect’s attention focuses in on him. He must keep bowing. He must not grow stiff. He must not rush his words. He must breathe. He must speak.

“In what few legends and histories I am aware of, none speak of such a case as this. But given the terrible consequences of inviting the Thunderer’s wrath, perhaps some additional caution may be warranted, for the sake of your safety?”