In a gentle garden of floating suns and rivers of thought, Sul sang.
Moac danced with gravity.
Cal meditated in silence, his arrogance turned inward—to discipline.
The universe was blank.
Pure.
And from every world, from every corner, beings began to awaken… not under gods or crowns… but under will.
Free.
Boundless.
Unwritten.
And above them all, in the stillness beyond all planes, Vatae's laughter echoed—not maniacal, not mad—
Just… peaceful.
"A new story begins…
And this time, no one writes it but you."