"...alive, with the qualifications of the dead –– dead, with the propensities of the living –– an anomaly on the face of the earth –– being very calm, yet breathless."
- Edgar Allen Poe
(All the powers of things lie in me. All power is eternal, and all eternity - is in me. Truly, there shall be no more....)
To call her powerful would be to trivialize what she truly was. She was beyond mortal conception, beyond magic and sorcery, beyond space and time. To touch her was to touch a living sun, to junction her was to become one. She shone brighter than an Ultima, brighter than Holy, brighter even than the lost magic, Apocalypse.
Anything that desired power desired her above all else.
She was Eden.
And she was docile now, trapped, frozen in someone else's mind--swallowed, silent, and still.
The mind of a Weapon was a simple thing. It sensed power, and it went for it. Once it found it, it consumed it. And then it waited--for more.
The Weapon didn't use its power for anything. It just collected it and sat with it, eternally hungry.
Eden was less a consciousness than an awareness. And she was aware of a good many things--she was acutely aware of the passage of time.
Life in the mind of a Weapon was an abyss--and abyss of monotonous nothingness, of bloated anticipation.
Eden was staring hard into the abyss, and it was staring straight back at her.
The Weapon had hardly moved since it had attained her. After all... after Eden, what power could compare? What else existed to whet the monster's appetite?
Eden was aware of power--small powers, insignificant beside her. They came and went, and she eclipsed them so thoroughly that the Weapon couldn't sense them, hunger notwithstanding.
It was a long time before something came into its narrow perceptions.
They were barely noticeable--faint glimmers in the midst of Eden's brilliance. But they were noticeable--and they were noticed.
Eden was aware of their glow. It was a familiar one--similar to herself, but lesser. They shone from within these other beings. Swallowed--
--but strong, not silent. Not still.
Eden stirred for the first time in centuries.
The Weapon did, too.
The Weapon was used to the chase. It was used to the battles. And it was used to its unconditional victory. It engaged its prey with the energy of the hunter and the hunger of hundreds of empty years. And Eden waited--not certain of the Weapon's impending defeat, but aware of it.
The other, lesser powers were reacting to her now--sensing her, standing in awe. And then she was aware of another mind within the Weapon's--a miniscule presence, but sharp and bright against the Weapon's dullness.
(?), it asked.
(EDEN,) she replied.
One of the presences blinked out as the Weapon overpowered it. The second mind reached out to her--
--and Eden accepted.
She was Drawn in a rush, flooding the new host mind and overwhelming it. It very nearly shut down in shock at what it had acquired--
Still in the throes of perfect motion, Eden turned and manifested. only hints of a summon were necessary from the mind she now inhabited--Eden simply refused to be confined.
The Weapon, having lost its greatest prize, had gone berserk with hunger. It drew at the air, and magic flooded toward it. But for all its strength--all its power--it was nothing to her.
(All the powers of things lie in me.)
It paled before her.
(All power is eternal--)
She was aware of her own progression through the line of time itself. She was aware of summonings--past, present and future. From her place, secure in the moment, she accepted her role.
(--and all eternity--is in me.)
The Weapon vanished.
(Truly--there shall be no more.)
Finally free, she took a deep breath of eternity.