Faced with this question, Cillian drew in a slow breath, though the sound faded quickly into the silence of the abyss. A moment later he shook his head, dismissing the thought.
"Impossible," he murmured to himself. "At best, it's coincidence. Moira…"
His mind wandered briefly through the fragments of memory he had glimpsed before. Nowhere had he seen anything that tied Moira's work to the idealistic planes. Her focus had been on the mind and the divine fire, not these unstable worlds of fog and distortion.
He let the memory go.
"Whatever the truth may be, now isn't the time to chase it. My task is clear: perfect the Endless Abyss."
He closed his eyes, steadying himself. "I can't afford distractions. Not when I've yet to reach the strength needed to enter the Chaos Dead Sea."
The vast realm remained barred to him until he grew stronger, and so, for now, his studies of the idealistic planes would have to wait. Still, he could not leave them unchecked.
