It was present when the one forged from two had first entered their realm; it made first contact and it was it that had first come up with the idea of establishing a bridge between their realities. It was considered an honour to be the first across the divide, but it knew that it was also taking a risk.
How the Belwether had traversed the barrier they had never understood. They understood the physics of the traversal, but how the frail human body had survived was something else entirely. The energy framework of these beings was just totally alien to them.
Reality puckered around the intrusion. It knew that these humans called where it came from the Unscripted Realms, as if they bordered this reality, but the spatial intersect in this dimension was not the point where the transfer of base physical matter occurred, that took place on some higher dimensional plane, a plane where it and its cohorts wee more comfortable manifesting themselves.
The translation matrix was inexact; it came through in folds of rippling cancer-flesh: tumours spiralling through the localspace, elastic, harnessed to an incomplete programming language that set boundaries defining a physical form approximating that of the one they had fashioned for Bellwether.
It knew that all the beings around it were unconscious; or mostly they were. It accessed the shared memory that Belwether had been hooked into and it knew that the two beings that were still moving around were the one-time Immaculate Author, and Belwether’s companion in this escapade.
It did not know what level of strength it had been equipped with here, and it was brand new operating this body, so it wasn’t sure that it wanted to engage in any hostility just yet.
This world rippled around. Was it that he felt sick, or was this reality feverish at his presence? He peered under the skin of it, into the ontological engines driving this place, and it knew that it was antithetical to the place.
It moved as if walking through sludge; the dense physicality weighed upon it, it was not pleasant. It knew that these creatures were going to think that they were all about domination, but the truth was that they saw this place as a commensurate part of a single whole, separated merely by the quirks of consciousness.
What would they do once their ingress was complete? Were they seeds that would fertilise this place and allow a new civilisation to grow? It was not sure. It knew that whatever picture the natives here had it was not an accurate representation of how it felt about itself. Did that matter? Would they be able to communicate? If it wasn’t possible what would that mean to it? Not much. It had it’s mission, and it would stick to it no matter what.
It reached out and it touched one of the beings that dwelled here, and it watched the matter decohere, watched the atoms float free like beads of sweat, until there was nothing left. This would be an interesting experience for all involved.