The space-time coordinates burned into Elias's consciousness led him to the edge of sanity itself.
He emerged from his dimensional fold into a region where reality had forgotten how to behave. The Shattered Void lived up to its name—fragments of broken dimensions drifted like icebergs in an ocean of raw chaos. Some pieces contained entire mountain ranges, floating upside-down with waterfalls that fell into nothing. Others were mere scraps of existence, flickering in and out of reality as if the infinity realm couldn't decide whether they should exist.
The spatial fabric here had been damaged on a fundamental level, probably millennia ago. Elias could see the scars—dimensional tears that bled exotic energies, pockets of reversed causality where effects preceded causes, zones where the laws of physics applied in alphabetical order rather than logical sequence.
Beautiful, in a way. Horrifying in most others.
