The First Void
The First Void was not a place that belonged to mortals. It wasn't even a place that belonged to gods.
It was older.
Older than the stars, older than realms, older than war. It was where the Progenitors first drew breath—the marrow of creation itself, hollow and wide, a cradle of nothing where the first sparks of being had once flared to life.
It was black without being dark. Empty without being still. The sky above stretched endless, but no stars marked it. Instead, veins of silver drifted, like rivers painted across glass, carrying whispers of memory. The ground was nothing—smooth, pale, like stone that had never known touch. Every step echoed, though no walls surrounded the place.
This was where they had once gathered, when the adversaries first rose. This was where the circle had been formed. And now, after an age of silence, the First Void stirred again.
One by one, they came.
