A house materialized around them as reality settled into its new configuration. Noah had chosen something simple—four walls, basic furniture, enough space for seven people to have a conversation without being cramped. Through the windows, endless green fields stretched toward horizons that seemed impossibly distant, broken only by rolling hills and the occasional cluster of trees.
The five elite shadow-wielders found themselves seated around a wooden table that definitely hadn't been there moments before. Their tactical gear looked absurdly out of place against the domestic setting, like soldiers who'd stumbled into someone's dining room by accident.
"What is this place?" The lead elite's voice carried confusion mixed with growing unease. His five-slash markings seemed less impressive in the comfortable lighting of Noah's manufactured living room.
"My domain," Noah replied, settling into a chair across from them. "A pocket dimension where I make the rules."
