They, the master elsprights, they also all take in the jarring notes of pure madness concentrating in this otherwise sacred and most serene of converging places - a microcosm of the sphere of happenings of this age, an asylum inner voices raging ever further to extremes, digging ever deeper into their own viewpoints and logic systems - and also an opportunity to perhaps stoke and nurture a countering emergence of benevolent triggers - every Epiphany must begin so, with an awakening of souls at all points.
And so stoke the spirits arising they do, launching their ethereal spiders and enlisting their fellows among the mob to finally commit their elevated selves upon their sure calling, to share their true purpose, to brave the certain onslaught of madness - to illuminate and awaken and lead the ready along the only sure path of limitless serenity - these warriors of the infinite realm.
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