In the beginning, there was the Lord. Then came the Weaver. In those days, only the two existed—sharing endless nothingness. But even in that setting, the Lord found ways to keep the distance. Never giving the Weaver a fair chance.
And so, what started as a wholesome and authentic affection devolved into a barbaric obsession. An obsession that shaped the lives of trillions across the ages. But as the Weaver influenced the world from afar, Mithras swept Marcus' Temple of Meditations—considering his options.
Aurelia faced him still, reeling from the nonstop blast of lewd pheromones. Meanwhile, Marcus stood by the altar. With three judges at his back, and a battalion of stern scholars a step behind. Many more joined the show, passing through the main entrance and lining up in the ever-expanding temple.