Celestial Realm
The light here didn't shine.
It declared.
Adam stepped through the tear, the others behind him, and instantly the air thickened—like walking into the weight of judgment itself.
Columns rose on all sides, not built from stone but from concepts—Time, Law, Order, Death, even Silence. They pulsed faintly with god-forged energy, a testament to how long this place had existed.
And how long it had been watching.
Adam's boots clicked against the floor—an endless stretch of mirrored marble that didn't reflect them, but the versions of themselves they could've become.
Joshua scanned the hall with a frown. "This place is wrong."
Aurora was quiet, her hand brushing against her earring crystal, eyes sharp. "It's not reacting to me either."
Aria walked closer to the center, murmuring. "I can't feel time here… I can't even feel myself."
And then they saw them.
Figures.
Dozens.
No… hundreds.
