The Lord of Dominion stepped back toward the glowing glyphs hovering in the air—symbols drifting like embers caught in slow motion.
"Long before this world… before even your stars were born," he began, voice quiet but resonating like a forgotten hymn, "there existed a plane beyond comprehension. A realm where creation itself was still raw. Unshaped. Untamed."
The glyphs began to spin.
A projection flared in the air above them—a glowing image of a vast sky lit with swirling galaxies, fractured continents floating across void currents like islands adrift in the sea of eternity.
Joshua—no, Zaryel—stared, his breath caught halfway between denial and wonder.
"This place," the Lord continued, "was known as Caelestia Magna. The Origin Realm. The cradle of everything."
As he spoke, the image shifted.
