The golden sky rolled like a heavy cloth overhead as the party walked across the endless white marble. Each step felt like it rewrote space; their footfalls did not echo but were absorbed, as if this realm refused to keep the traces of anyone who thought they could change it.
In the distance the temples rose like monoliths of the gods' collective thought: slender pillars, reliefs spiraling myths into endless patterns, and small gates that closed like petals in a winter night. The gods' city center looked far away, yet now presented a narrower stone gateway, trimmed with symbols marking the boundary between life and death emblems that made the air itself feel weighty.
