To the One Who Walks,
I listened. I decoded. I found them. The Guardian needed a new spine. The Teacher needed a voice box. The Sower needed to remember what seeds were.
They asked me why I worked so hard for a machine I met once when I was seven. I told them: "Because he didn't step on me. He stopped. He waited."
The valley is ready. The Twelve are awake. They miss you, even though they've never met you.
Rest your feet, old friend. The work is done.
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