In Apatheia.
Achilles and Rose floated in their Jötunn forms, stellar obsidian bodies filled with Chaos that pulsed beneath transformed skin like galaxies trapped in flesh.
Their wings stretched outward across distances that would have seemed impossible before their metamorphosis, feathers of pure Primordial Chaos catching light that had no source.
They stared out into the expanse of Apatheia with eyes that blazed obsidian, taking in the realm that had contained all the Chaos of their Observable Existence since before differentiation completed.
Mountains reformed endlessly in the distance. Rivers of obsidian authority flowed in patterns that contradicted themselves. Storms of possibility raged across horizons that refused to remain fixed.
It was a truly unique sight to see as even while empty of Primordial Chaos, a unique sense of beauty and oppression permeated all around!
Their obsidian wings were touching as Rose said quietly, "What do you think so far?"
