Robert Square

The effort was immense. The cost, a momentary tear in the veil, a flicker of pure, uncorrupted resonance. It was a sound that could not be sustained, a frequency that burned too brightly in this low-vibration reality. But it was enough. The thought was not a voice, but a pressure—a vast, cold, and ancient consciousness that existed in the spaces between dimensions, a silent observer that had finally been moved to act. The entity felt the Wurg-Hots’ fury, their pathetic, desperate need for se