The air in the Great Abyss did not move so much as it pulsed, a slow, rhythmic exhalation of pure, undiluted potential that was the closest thing to breath in that place beyond places.
It was the heartbeat of the void, a sound felt in the marrow of beings rather than heard by any auditory organ. And today, that pulse was quickening, a drumbeat summoning all of creation to witness an event of cataclysmic finality: the battle of two beings whose powers were said to be equal to that of the Primordials.
For a while now, this pulse had been growing, but the strength of it had abruptly heightened on this day, screaming into the mind of all consciousness in Reality.
The arena where this battle was to take place did not appear to be built; it almost felt
As if it was grown.
Appearing like a negative space carved from the starless, eternal dark of the Abyss, a bowl of impossible scale whose edges bled into the non-space of the endless void.
