was all a part of him, and he was a part of it. A great rush of freedom resounded through them. The Shadows enslaved them no longer.
They stretched farther, toward the Shadows' soldiers and ships, but those pieces of tech remained beyond the reach of their pale yellow light. Although they were free, still the Shadows enslaved others, and would continue as long as possible. Through Galen, they knew what must be done. Though they wanted to live, they wanted more to end the great atrocities performed here. They were joined of purpose, power, and desire.
The White Star reached optimum distance, and as one, the Eye turned away.
Far above, the White Star plunged toward Z'ha'dum. In thirty seconds it would reach them. It was time now to finish his task. Galen must make sure that Elizar and Razeel did not retreat to the safety of some hidden shelter. He must make sure that everything that needed to be destroyed was destroyed. Their sacrifice must not be in vain.
The machine people released him, yet their connection to him remained. Physical contact, somehow, was no longer necessary. Barely had Galen thought to conjure a platform below himself than one gained substance beneath his feet. He had not visualized the equation, yet the tech had known what he wanted, had wanted the same thing at the same time. Rather than him commanding and the tech complying with a subservient echo, the thought had resounded simultaneously through them both. Now, as he thought to propel himself upward, he began to move. Issuing the command was no longer necessary. If it could be done, and if he and the tech agreed it should be done, then it would be done.
The machine people cleared the way for him, and he shot upward with increasing speed. He burst up out of the pit,