Alph felt the aftershocks of it ripple through his Tamu Kek. It was exquisite - true artistry as it thrummed through his being, painting maddening colors. A wave passes through him and he knows then, the cosmere has changed. Truly. Profoundly. Changed.
Alph turns to the pools, watching. He must consider carefully what he will take, for it will shape what kind of god he becomes. Each pool sang its own song, whispering, urging towards a goal. An Intent. That is something new. He thinks to himself. He looks at the shards of Ado's power and listens to their songs. He saw the Truine strain their feeble ears, trying to listen to music they do not understand. He pities them. Even those primitive Singers could hear the beats of the world.
That golden well of burning passion called to him- the highs and lows of emotion compressed into power. But should he take it? Such power is not meant for mortal hands or hearts.
The enshaden pool of rippling black smoke sang to him as well- he could feel its rippling chaos already roting the earth. He wrinkles his nose. That power knows only hunger and can not appreciate the destruction it brings. But perhaps... perhaps he could change it in small ways such as that.
Opposite to that abominable power was another that called Alph. Creation in its rawest aspect- beauty for the sake of beauty. The pool rippled and split into three colors, more ghostly after-images than real substance.
Other shards called to him, too, but one was already claimed, and one far more fiercely sang to another.
If only he could take more of these and forge them together..... become the new god.
"Grace, my dear. We seem like the only two who haven't lost our wits. What do you think of these... powers? Which sings to you?" Alph places an ivory hand on his hip and watches the impulsive fools run.
He watches her in fascination. The singers have always been odd. Neither wholly Fain nor wholly Truine, but something other. Crab-like.