Nox stood in an endless, white void. It was not the empty, consumptive blackness of his own Dominion, but a clean, sterile, and infinitely complex space. Geometric shapes, Platonic solids woven from pure light, drifted past him. Streams of glowing, silver data, the raw code of the World's Scripture, flowed like rivers through the non-space.
"Welcome to my sanctum, Nox," Athena's voice echoed, not from a single point, but from the very fabric of the void itself. "My 'Logos'. A dimension of pure thought and logic. Here, your physical strength is irrelevant. Your void is a blunt instrument. Here, we battle with the only weapon that truly matters: the mind."
Nox looked around. He felt… exposed. His armor, his scepter, his physical body—they were still there, but they felt like illusions, temporary constructs in a world where only ideas were real.
'Liona, what is this place?'
