Everything was drained of color, like someone had bled the world dry. Xavier floated in it—weightless and unanchored. There were no walls, no ceiling, no floor beneath his feet. Just endless night stretched across every direction, galaxies spinning, stars flickering far away, a silent sea of eternity.
But then, he noticed the ground. Not real ground, but colossal slabs of stone jutting out from the nothingness, rising like monuments, like fragments of a forgotten temple. They stood scattered at a distance, massive, imposing, their surfaces carved with marks he couldn't read. Together they almost formed a structure, though broken and incomplete.
