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‘Only when he gets particularly excited about his work,’ said Worwal. ‘So yes, all the time.’

‘Sounds like a real hassle,’ said Garovel. ‘You have my sympathies.’

‘Heh, thank you. And knowing what I do of your servant, you also have mine, a’hkin.’

‘Oh, wow. I haven’t been called that in millennia. I’m not sure it suits me, but I appreciate the gesture, at least.’

“Which questions did I miss?” asked Abbas.

“Uh... well, to put ‘em all together, I guess I was just wondering how the personality for the Living Core could have come from the Candle when... I mean, the Core literally told me that it put you into that coma. So the personality must’ve been there before we connected it to the Candle, because that happened after you and Worwal were already passed out.”

“Ah, yes. An understandable point of confusion. There are two possible explanations for that. Both of which harbor some rather unfortunate implications, I’m afraid. The first is, in my estimation, far more likely. And that would be that the Core’s personality did indeed already exist within the Candle. So it would also remember doing that to us.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t that mean that the Candle itself hates you, too?”

“Not necessarily.” Abbas allowed a beat to pass. “But yes, probably.”

“Aw, shit. And the second explanation?”

“Temporal interference,” said Abbas.

“Say what?”

“When dealing with Fusion Forges--or dense pockets of ardor in general--time itself can become something of a blurry concept. For example, the precise moment that something is created can turn into more of a... ‘range’ of creation, rather than a singular instant.”

“What the heck? Why would that happen?”

“Oh, any number of reasons, depending on the exact nature of the object in question. But from what I have read, it can be especially likely to occur when the object being created is something particularly influential over ardor itself. It is an interesting phenomenon. I remember reading one theory that said it was a consequence of an ardor feedback loop.” Abbas tilted his head as he recalled the essay more fully. “In fact, it said that such a feedback loop, if unable to rectify itself, could result in a spatial distortion akin to a... black hole. Hmm...”

Hector just stared at him.

Worwal’s next words were wrapped in the echo of privacy. ‘You do realize that we’re trying NOT to come off as unhinged madmen in front of our gracious host, right?’