The descent of the Source was not a physical arrival but a total atmospheric shift. The Great Chaos, which had once been a turbulent sea of grey potential, suddenly became as still and cold as polished glass. The six suns of the Multiversal Council flickered, their vibrant hues of violet, gold, and iron being bleached into a sterile, blinding white. Aegis felt the connection to his galaxies straining; it was as if a giant hand had reached into the mechanism of reality and simply gripped the gears to a halt.
Aegis stood at the epicenter of the Great Soul-Link, his physical body acting as the lightning rod for the collective consciousness of twelve trillion lives. The sheer volume of data—memories of first breaths, the heat of ancient wars, the mundane joy of a shared meal—flowed through his mana-veins with the pressure of a collapsing star.
