Atticus found himself in the middle of a seemingly endless desert. The sun burned overhead, bathing the landscape in its scathing rays.
Atticus had imagined his ascension into the Higher Planes to be somewhat grand. Filled with drama, excitement, and blinding lights. Yet he had barely caught sight of the light that brought him here.
Even more, the world did not look like what one would expect a higher-plane existence to resemble. The sun was golden, the ground made of ordinary sand. He felt nothing restricting his power in the air. No plane will, no will at all. In fact, the only remarkable thing was the seemingly endless stream of energy permeating the world.
Atticus wanted to use Omnicognition, only to realize that he couldn't. His bond with Ozeroth, one he had maintained for years, had been severed once he ascended.
