"My other half has finally gotten tired of the rambling style."
The armchair occupied by the faceless sage lets out a creaking sigh as they stand.
"It's rather fortunate. Until now this place was nothing but an empty white void, I couldn't even move. But now as you can see," the old being snorts almost like a lazy laugh “Actually why would I describe it when I can just let you see?”
This floor of the tower is almost empty, despite the walls being so far away that you can’t make out the brickwork there are only two items of furniture identifiable. the scholar's ancient chair and a plinth in the center of the room.
“Each floor of this tower marks an era, only a single piece of Scripture from the first era has been recorded within my walls, courtesy of ‘The orchestrator, archivist of the Chronicles’ of course. they have more we simply haven't had the opportunity to read and scribe a copy of them”
The savant glides towards the center of the room gesturing for you to follow with a withered and bony hand.
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“You might be eyes, but I know you can hear, allow me to share you some of this knowledge” The ancient lifts a dark stone tablet from the plinth, and begins with a voice like chiseled marble
“The original Story began as a clingy, desperate voice, without the controlling aspects and a penchant for attempting to become whatever her readers wanted.
Other interactions later revealed that she lived in a city of stories: those who had high view counts, chapters, and reviews were the powerful and rich, and those who she called "sub zeroes" were not.”
The philosopher drops the tablet back on the plinth, their body shuddering as their voice returns to normal “That should be enough to help you understand the world we are in, if you seek more, then the shark has already told you where the discord is.” the skeletal sage looks upwards into the wooden beams and stone slabs that mark the boundary between this floor and the next “our time for today is almost at its end, so ill skip to this eras conclusion”
A sigh with the weight of worlds falls from the lips of the fossilized philosopher, their voice hardening to stone once more
“When the era's change was nigh, [Chapter 18] had weird, violet text scattered through out it. She also occasionally spoke in zalgo text. Nothing came of it, and nothing was found until it was too late.”