I feel its confusion. I feel its hunger.
It is not hungry for flesh. It is hungry for data. It is the planet’s original immune system, waking up to process the new digital layer, but the sheer volume of human emotion, financial data, and digital noise is overloading its ancient architecture. It’s trying to process the internet, and it’s going to crash. If it crashes, the biological feedback will trigger a seismic event that will shatter the tectonic plates.
It’s too much, I project into the void, pushing my own mortal consciousness into the leviathan’s mind. You can’t process it all. You have to filter it.
The leviathan’s consciousness recoils, a massive wave of psychic static that makes my nose bleed, the warm drops floating in the zero-G of the neural link. It shows me an image: the s
