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“There is no morality in this world, save that which we above decide,” said Germal. “And you, cedo, are no ally of Chaos. You are, in fact, the furthest thing from it.”

Morgunov paused. Hmm. There was a lot to unpack there. “What makes you say that? I’ve been spreading chaos all over the world my whole dang life! Go on, ask anyone!”

“Ah, but now it is you who is using misleading language. You spread ‘chaos,’ yes. But not ‘Chaos.’ In fact, for all your knowledge and experience, I suspect you hardly know what true Chaos is.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy with the insults there. You’re not seriously trying to tell me that I’ve secretly, unwittingly been an agent of Order this entire time. Because frankly, that has to be the silliest darn thing I’ve ever done heard!”

“You truly do not understand? How short-sighted. Yes, you may not be of the Furies, but you incite them to move. You spur them on. Inspire them. And frequently, you do much more than that, don’t you? You often allow them to live when you could easily end them. You even feel remorse on the rare occasions when you put one down. And of course, some, you teach directly as your students. Help them refine and grow themselves.”

Morgunov had a lot to say, but he remained silent, because it seemed like this guy wasn’t done yet, and he wanted to hear the rest.

“The mere act of inventing--don’t you see? That, too, is making Order from Chaos. Taking the natural, beautiful Chaos of the world and twisting it into inert knots. That is the ultimate goal of all your efforts, whether you realize it or not. Whatever amount of Chaos you might bring--it is incidental and fleeting. Soon chased away by Order. You claim to be a gardener, as we are, yet you do nothing but plant and grow weeds.”

Morgunov could stay quiet no longer. “Excuse me? Weeds? You think inventors, the brilliant and beautiful minds of the world, are weeds? The people who spend their lives advancing technology, pushing the boundaries of human knowledge and potential, usually at great personal risk to themselves--those are the ugly things you want to uproot?”

“Ah. Perhaps you do understand.”

And for the first time in many, many years, Morgunov was struck dumb. With utter incredulity.

How could anyone believe something so obviously moronic?