Raylo stood up.
He didn't immediately inspect the explosive surge of his Power. Instead, he simply stood quietly at the peak of the cliff, experiencing this "new" world.
The wind was no longer just a simple current of air, but the intertwining and flowing of countless pale-cyan lines of rules. The mountain rocks beneath his feet were heavy, earthy-yellow lines in deep slumber. In the distance, the ocean—having boiled and returned to tranquility—was the breathing and pulsing of deep-blue lines.
In his eyes, the entire world had transformed into an incredibly precise, three-dimensional canvas woven from endless lines of rules. He even had the illusion that, as long as he wished it, he could reach out and pluck these lines like the strings of an instrument.
This was the Catastrophe Level.
Below the Catastrophe Level, one perceived Elements and energy. Above the Catastrophe Level, one perceived rules and the origin of Power.
