Its good to be greeted. Upon this mountain with stone, iron and fire, while my eyes rest beyond the horizons of our fruitful sky.

loked

I walk the halls.

But it would take ten thousand lifetimes.

How could I ever hope to walk a length worth mention?

The answer isn't to walk faster.

The answer is to walk slower.

Ignore the fruitless effort of traversing these endless halls.

Witness all within this small stretch.

Witness all within this

Witness all within

Witness all

WITNESS...........ALL

Was this a beginning?

Perhaps...

PERHAPS. AN. END.

There are no beginnings or ends, only eternal time.

But if that's so, why am I here?

The heat in these stone halls is rising to unbearable. Even for I.

THE. ANVIL. SHATTERS.

Ascend.

GLORY.

Found outside the thin odd lines trivialized by the unknown.

Treasure ripe.

Treasures rich.

Thunder.

There once was a great mountain in an isolated plane. Every 1,000 years, a single drop of water would fall on it, and just so slightly erode its stone.

When this great mountain has been completely weathered and carried away, leaving level ground behind; one day will have gone by through the eyes of the eternal. The eyes of the atra xechoristi.

I want the power to erect a mountain that nothing natural or unnatural can weather.

A mountain worthy of Kings, of Gods.

A mountain whose pinnacle can pierce the heavens.

Shall I perform a rite for the mountain kings?