I breathe out softly. "Yes," I say, very quiet. Destroy everything. The end of the Work, the greatest work. The bonefire, at the end.... We have pushed at the Wheel for all these generations; now time is stopping, and all that is left is to remove the chock that keeps the Wheel from spinning free, faster and faster into destruction. I swallow for a different reason now, palms warm. "What there is left... Yes."

He's - it's - a very beautiful sort of creature, in its way. It's quite monstrous, but it will serve, as everything will serve the end. I don't think it will see the new beginning, and I feel a sort of pity for it.