Moon found himself standing at the edge of what appeared to be a river flowing through absolute void.
It was an impossible sight to behold, something that only existed in imagination, or so he thought. A river with no banks, no source, no destination. It simply was, stretching forward into infinite darkness like a luminous path carved in the void.
The river wasn't made of water.
Its substance defied easy description, part liquid, part light, part something else entirely. It flowed with colors that had no names, hues that existed between the spectrum his eyes were designed to perceive. The surface rippled constantly, as if responding to currents that operated on principles unrelated to physics or gravity.
Looking at it too long made Moon's perception ache, his mind struggling to categorize something that refused all familiar things he knew.
Above and below and all around: absolute void. Empty space that pressed against his senses with suffocating completeness.
