"No," she said aloud. Her voice was small, human, a rasp of carbon and water. "You don't get to be tired. You don't get to sigh and turn away. I called you here because your apathy is killing the laws of physics. The sun rose orange yesterday. My mother's ghost forgot her own name. Time is stuttering like a broken chant."
Amirah smiled. It was a terrible smile, the kind that comes from having nothing left to lose. amirah adara higher entities
The Loom pulsed. The second entity—the one that looked like a spiral staircase made of teeth—unfurled a question into her lungs: WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE US DO? "No," she said aloud
"We cannot," the Loom translated, vibrating her teeth. "We have never been small." " the Loom translated