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The question echoed through the vast hall each reverberation colliding with the low ceiling, the floor, itself, and finally coming to rest about the four beacons of light burning brightly through the darkness.
And then a slow, deliberate flash of light, a gale of wind, and a slight tremor.
We do not need why.
Each word was formed by a chorus of voices, but the syllables were ill-formed as though the speaker had never vocalized its thoughts before.
You claim to be the ultimate intelligence in the universe, and yet you are incapable of explaining your own existence?
A deeper tremor ran through the ground and was accompanied by a flash of crimson from one of the beacons all of which had shifted from a low blue tone to a blinding white.
Incapable? The voices crashed through the hall their echo responded with equal vehemence.
No. We are not incapable. A slower, more resonant voice had joined t
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