Far above the clouds, far beyond the reach of wind, storm, or time itself, lies the Sanctum of Aeons—the resplendent domain of the Celestials, veiled from the mortal realm by layers of ethereal light and laws that defy the very fabric of reality.
Here, in this sacred dimension, time does not pass. It is acknowledged.
The realm was layered in endless terraces of floating, radiant temples—each sculpted from stardust and divine essence, orbiting a core sphere of pure, pulsating light—the Heart of the Divine Concord.
And within its hallowed courts, the Celestials gathered.
They stood not as beings, but as concepts given form. Some cloaked in robes of cascading galaxies, others clad in armor forged from collapsing stars. Their faces were blurred, shifting eternally between male, female, and formless divinity. Their eyes glowed like twin constellations.
