In the Pantheon of Hallownest, high above the arena, Void given Focus stared at Absolute Radiance, defeated and terrified in its clutches. Void and Radiance are destined enemies, utter opposites. To obliterate the putrid, vacuous light is Void's instinct, as natural as water flowing downhill. And yet...

And yet the Focus suggests more. The Focus knows more. The Focus seeks more. The Focus had been given a purpose.

"Thou divine speck! Thou great wonder! Thou hast overcome our Pantheons. Thou hast overcome the Gods. To witness thy ascension- no. You art thou no longer. We are specks before you, oh God of Gods! Finish the brilliant deity! Tear it apart utterly, so that we may attune-"

With effort that was not Void and not Light, the Focus used Soul. The Focus reached out to the almighty, helpless god. Absolute Radiance leaked power and essence in the grip of its eternal enemy...

And the Focus absorbed.

"What?! No! No, no, NO! Is this the divine plan? Has that wretched crawler corrupted you? Why take? We cannot attune! We are lost! We must join. We implore you! Destroy it! Break it! DO NOT TAKE!"

But the Void did not hear, and the Focus did not heed.

Absolute Radiance, brilliant and vain, all-glorious and mind-consuming, was taken into the Void. Not sealed. Not defeated. Not destroyed. Joined.

With the power of Soul and the guide of Focus, it was possible. With the art of thought and the memory of engineering, it was formed. Brilliant light, surrounded, subsumed, and suffused by inky black. Like water and oil, yet flawlessly joined. Like kingmoulds and wingmoulds reversed: Radiance subjugated, light enslaved, vanity contained.

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From without, Focused Void appeared unchanged, but for its eight eyes, now shining golden instead of white.

"Incandescent Evil! Almighty speck! What foul deed hast thou done?! What hast thou formed?! Unstable! Impossible! Incomrehensible!"

Void's Focus directed golden eyes to the Godseeker. Void noticed the melody of attunement. Focus saw the song's source.

"No! We reject thy touch! We refuse thy embrace! Do not- do not-"

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In the Junk Pit, a large creature with golden mask clutched its head. Void seeped from its eyes, from its body. Clawed tentacles snapped outward, then inward, surrounding and consuming the being in blackness. The pitch shadow shivered and struggled, until it went still.

All was motionless, save the water below, in which a horned and bearded beetle floated by like a piece of driftwood.

Slowly, then, the shadow shrunk. The blackness retreated. The void resolved.

A small bug, with nail on its back, wings beneath its cloak, and golden mask upon its head, lay motionless on the ground. A twitch, followed by another, betrayed its waking.

The Knight pushed itself to a stand.

From the outside, perhaps, it might have seemed insignificant, a mere change in color and perhaps texture of its mask, but not shape or form or size. Perhaps the golden sheen betrayed a harder material, a durable metal more difficult to damage.

But from the inside...

"Oh God of Gods," spoke the Godtuner reverently. "You art truly holy. To think, you join Us... no, We join you! We are within the God of Gods! Truly a perfect existence! Go! Edict! Enact! We are but humble witnesses to your divine design."

The Void God within the Knight encased the Godtuner hivemind, , and she lapsed into silent contentment. Her last conscious thought was a flash of regret at the remaining Gods of Hollownest who had not been attuned – the White Lady, the faded Unn, and the Pale King, long departed.

The Knight noticed this regret...