Ash floated alone, cross-legged in the boundless void of his inner cosmos—a realm of infinite rose-pink expanse where galaxies swirled in silent harmony, nebulae blooming like living thoughts, and the distant hum of creation itself pulsed like a quiet heartbeat.
After mentioning the Lower Dimension, he had done well by explaining all he knew.
One, the Lower Dimension was what held all Universes like a house—vast, containing, yet merely a foundation.
Two, Cosmic Overlord was not the peak nor was being a progenitor—the words lingering in memory as he sent them away, their auras fading into the cosmos like departing stars.
Of course, they would become his and so would their clans… Who in their right mind would deny such things.
They would've been sold on him even without him being desire perhaps… just cause his strength—the raw, indefinable pull that bent wills without force.
