Morning in the Pocket Realm arrived with a quiet kind of grandeur.
The realm did not have a single sun, yet light still spread evenly across the sky, reflecting differently depending on where one stood. The crystal mountains in the north refracted soft hues across the horizon, while the eastern ocean sent slow-moving pillars of mist upward before letting them fall back in gentle curtains. The southern forest pulsed with a calm, living rhythm, and in the west, floating landmasses drifted in suspended stillness, occasionally traced by faint streaks of horizontal lightning.
At the center of it all stood the plateau, untouched and absolute.
And upon it, the ten-thousand-meter palace rose like a declaration carved into reality itself.
Inside one of its grand halls, the group had gathered.
