In the Ancient Basin, the Pale King Wyrm gazed at the magnificent dome of the White Palace with his spiritually radiant eyes.
"Did you see it?"
Without warning, Wyrm suddenly posed this seemingly cryptic question to the White Lady beside him.
"Yes, orange-red flames have ignited, but they are not flames of the mind. They are the flames of a newborn order."
"What do you think it means?"
"I imagine it is nothing bad. My roots sensed no malice. There was even something childishly mischievous coming from that pillar of light."
As the White Lady replied, a pure white shoot sprouted from the ground at her will, lifting the porcelain cup of hot tea from the table to her.
The two white Higher Beings began discussing what they had sensed.
Although it was subtle, a rare trace of surprise did linger in their words.
Throughout their long lives, they had witnessed far too much death.
But new life...
The birth of a new Higher Being, in particular, was exceedingly rare.
There were many reasons for this, but the greatest was that the barren wilds struggled to provide the basic conditions necessary for a god to arise.
Thus, most Higher Beings chose to rule over kingdoms of mortal bugs to acquire some quality they needed.
And Wyrm, the ruler of Hallownest, belonged to the race most adept at this.
Of course, there were a very few exceptions...
So, in a rare turn of events, Wyrm and the White Lady continued discussing the possible implications.
Dreya, standing guard beside them, did not quite understand their conversation.
What were the sovereigns I served talking about? Nothing had happened at all.
Yet the very next moment, the ground shook violently. This strange occurrence immediately put Dreya on alert.
Drawing her long, slender rapier, Dreya