Silence.
Absolute silence.
That was the first thing Vexarion Aurendor noticed after he got… far enough.
It was… strange.
Yes, the silence itself was strange. It was different from the silence inside an empty room; it was… the silence of a place that… never learned to speak.
There were no familiar currents in the air. No old 'echoes' left behind by ancient cultivators. No distant pulses from high-level worlds. No faint traces of other Eternals moving somewhere far away.
There was just… space.
Vast, dark space… and worlds that felt young.
And that thought alone made his chest tighten.
A place like this should not exist.
Vexarion Aurendor was an Eternal. A being who had been in this Universe for more than a million years, a being who had alliances, enemies, and debts scattered across every corner of creation.
There were very few regions he hadn't visited himself—at the very least, he had heard of them.
But this?
This was unfamiliar in a way that felt… wrong.
