MY CRUEL PROTECTOR
We reached the central spire—the CPU of the universe.
It was a massive, rotating crystal of pure, condensed information, ten miles high and a mile wide. It throbbed with the weight of the entire galaxy’s history.
"Nevan, the core!" I screamed. "I can't delete it! It's too dense! We have to break it physically!"
Nevan looked at the crystal, then at his broken claymore. He looked at the "Quiet" of his own soul—the unprogrammed, messy, human heart that the Source couldn't understand.