~ a short story
The tower would stand as long as he could will it to.
He glided along the spiral stairs, robe swept against supersteel sheen. Stepped into the foyer to sight the arcane runes on the dome. The clock struck zero. Odin touched down on his shoulder and gave a coo. The pulses began. The stained glass started to shudder. Well-worn carpet path guided him to desks and walls and windows; his instruments twirled and spiraled and sang. He placed the crescence into the touchscreens. Satellite comms hummed with updates. The arashiyama sizzled on the sticks. One moon revealed its fullness through the cloudform. Distant starsigns sighted down the zagging mirrorworks on the exterior walls, sourced into a supercomputer.
The tower rattled as he reached its zenith.
The tower reconfigured around the secret no-man as he made his walk, separated and rebuilt its core dialectics as he read his books, fed his raven, and routined out his nightly beddown, all the while completing the calculation on the rest of the Universe.
The tower stood as the last bastion against entropy’s victory, stealing away some of the Madness before it could reach Man. ~