How goes the pamphlet’s reaction?
A few heated Encyclicals its way but otherwise, nada
The work is like that, brave Godlet
It takes time
Though you’ll be delighted to know it was received as greatness here in Baoel
It is inspiring to know even on the other side of the Pantheon there is dissidence
Even in the seat where establishment is bred
And articulated so well!
you charm me
how goes the angel’s rebellion?
Three morrows before we take Ur-Külte
A moderate fortress in the grand scheme of the planetary expanse, but capital of Qui’ox
Qui'ox! the western continent, yes?
But close enough
So that has been a boon, and the underground resistance has now sprung to meet us with open generous wings
Vah-Lei keep their distance too, a miracle unto itself
Zero notions of Pantemplar activity
I am delighted
How may House Symbolic help you further?
What you and Qass have been accomplishing is beyond the usual Godlet remit
Your house is doing invaluable work, remember that
And have our blessing
We take it with humble thanks
But I will say this
Superiors want you to go
Why stop at “co-operation” between houses? Why not one single united house, in the interest and love of all Godlets?
Why not a union of these unions, across all three stages of God-to-be-ness?
Metagods, why not abolish the Sacrifices?
With the rupture Priori Progeny brings, so much more is possible than a mere banning of curfew
The horizon is no longer distant, the most distant throughline
It is the entirety of what you may do
Had not considered these things
But I will now
I suppose fear of the Pantheon’s smite kept my possibilities hidden
But now you are the ones with more power, now there can be no replacement
As long as the Professorium is around, yes
So I must tread that balance and not go extreme, surely?
I must keep the respect of the Professorium, or two elder contingencies will be against us
Well, of a kind
The Professorium are your means to our magnificent un-end, so to speak
They will never admit it, but they are just like us angels
Metaphysical, near-omnipotent, but frustrated by the chance congealing of protoplasma
They being unlucky, you see, to forever serve the Gods
And that means their egos will wilt if you push
Do not become their bargaining chips, Ashtesh
Now I must abscond
We march upon the Nós Docks come the third orbit’s dawn