Far above this terrible ritual, floating in the twisted space that served as sky in the Paradoxical Folds, another gathering had formed. Thirty Dukes hovered in perfect formation around a single figure whose presence commanded attention!
Not through ostentation…instead through its profound absence of such things.
Duke Schrodinger sat in the void as if it were the most comfortable chair ever crafted, his ragged clothes hanging from his frame like flags of defiance against the very concept of appearance mattering.
He wore no golden armor to announce his authority, bore no royal robes to demand respect.
Yet the thirty Dukes who surrounded him…each one a power that could reshape Existence according to their whims…arranged themselves around him like planets orbiting a sun they didn't fully understand but couldn't resist.
