"At what scale does something begin to lose meaning?
For mortals, it is an easy thing to find out. The death of one might make them sad, a hundred deaths would drive them to a state of weakness, a thousand would terrify them, and a million would almost drive most to madness, but you see when it comes to a billion, then something truly special begins to happen. Don't you think so, Romion? But mortals are meaningless, we are here to discuss the immortal."
ONE THOUSAND YEARS AGO.
Rowan stood on the last remnants of the Twilight Bridge for six months after the death of Third, he did not move, not even to breathe, like a statue made from meat and bones.
There were barely ten miles of the Twilight Bridge left, and it bled golden and red clouds of dust that glowed like stars. Pieces of it were slowly crumbling and when the last of the Bridge shattered, his spell would end.
