[VOLUME 15: THE PRIMORDIAL PILGRIMAGE][ARC 1: THE SHATTERED DARK AND THE FIRST MYTH]
There was no up. There was no down.
There was only the absolute, suffocating perfection of the void.
Elara floated in the sensory deprivation of a world that had just lost its ceiling. The blinding, oppressive white light of the High Seat was gone. The celestial floating islands of Li's Heavenly Expanse had ceased to exist in her peripheral vision. Even the air had stopped moving.
But inside her veins, a million suns were screaming.
Elara gasped, her hands flying to her chest. Her skin was scalding to the touch. The energy of the High Seat—the stolen faith of countless mortal realms, the raw, unfiltered life-force of a cosmic parasite—was violently thrashing against her ribcage. It tasted metallic and terrifyingly sweet on her tongue, like copper and crushed lotus flowers.
