War raged on this land. City-states, as had been common on our homeworld, were being conquered by a single nation. Rayse’s favored people had been imbued with power, far greater than the power of sculpting stone I had given the singers. This was a dreadful power, control over the very Surges that make up creation. It reminded me of the worst powers on our world. The ability to shear axon from axon. Microkinesis, in the language of gods. Here it took a different form, but caused me—even God—to tremble.
