For a time after that, the hall breathed with voices. Soft, still stunned, breaking voices. They muttered about much the same. About miracles. About impossibility. About a man who called himself selfish, yet had bled his soul into two others so deeply that they were still alive because he just... was.
They called him a genius.
A mind beyond reason.
A fool.
A martyr.
An icon in flesh.
Some wept. Others argued.
Things might've remained static in that way, repeating and repeating, but then...
The hall's sky pulsed and shimmered.
Its title flickered.
Soon, it changed.
It changed to something bold.
Something incredibly and unbelievably bold.
{Volume 5: Second Sun}
Gasps broke through the hall.
Their origins had frozen.
Because they knew.
They knew what that title really meant.
"Sun."
It didn't belong to just anyone.
It belonged to a lineage, a myth, a figure they all knew.
A figure engrained in their minds, even if they had never searched for his name.
Solomon.
