The narrow ribbon of starlight rose higher, curving like the spine of a sleeping dragon.
The air grew colder.
Above them, the celestial gavel hung suspended in the false sky.
The group stepped onto the final rise.
And then—
They saw it.
A circular platform hovered above the mirror-firmament, rotating ever so slightly in the void.
Its edges glowed with a ring of symbols older than kingdoms.
The floor was not solid marble or glass.
It was a galaxy. A living galaxy.
Stars the size of fireflies spun beneath a thin transparent layer, swirling in gentle currents. Constellations drifted past their feet like migrating schools of light.
But the strangest part was... The stars were not moving.
They drifted, but inside invisible cages of law.
It felt as if time had been wound backward and then frozen mid-breath.
Marie whispered,
"…This should be beautiful, but why does it feel like walking on a sealed tomb?"
Lilith's eyes narrowed.
"Because that's exactly what it is."
