The energy from the pillar acted as a catalyst, forcibly activating Mikhail's latent mutant ability. This, in a feedback loop, further stimulated the energy column, triggering an uncontrolled spatial transmission.
"How troublesome," the Amon avatar sighed, giving the energy column at his feet a light, dismissive kick.
Innumerable, overlapping illusory doors appeared in the Amon avatar's eyes. The residual spatial energy that had swept Mikhail and the others away flared back into existence. The avatar plunged his hand directly into the swirling blue energy, and his entire form vanished in an instant.
Within a chaotic pocket dimension, a rift the color of an orchid flower tore open. A pair of hands emerged, gripping the edges of the tear and pulling it wider. The Amon avatar gracefully stepped through the opening.
The moment he arrived, the avatar's body began to warp. His five fingers shortened, thickened, and took on the texture of fabric. He was beginning to transform into a plush doll.
He flicked his right hand, and tiny, crawling tissues of flesh appeared on the transformed part, rapidly fighting back against the change and restoring his hand to its normal appearance.
"This dimension assimilates everything that enters, forcibly converting them into toys," he noted. "This implies the native creatures don't need to eat; after all, dolls have no need for sustenance." Endless brilliance flashed in the Amon avatar's eyes as his monocle gleamed. He analyzed this strange new realm and quickly gained a preliminary understanding of its rules.
He deduced this dimension had nothing to do with Cybertron's energy pillar. The pillar had only served as the catalyst that awakened Mikhail's mutant ability. The true reason Mikhail and his companions were brought here was the nature of that ability itself.
"Just as I suspected," Amon concluded in his mind. "The Rasputin family's mutant abilities are all intrinsically linked to other dimensions!"
Suddenly, the entire pocket dimension began to shudder violently. The ground, which was constructed from massive toy blocks, fractured and split apart. From the newly formed cracks in the ground, a giant dragon, seemingly made of the same building blocks, squeezed its way into existence.
As soon as it fully emerged, the block dragon locked its gaze onto the Amon avatar and breathed out a stream of cartoonish-looking dragon flame toward him.
"Ah, so the ruler of this place has found me," Amon remarked with amusement. "It's also my own fault for not deliberately concealing my aura after arriving, and even actively resisting the dimension's rules. If he had failed to notice me, this dimension's sovereign would be quite incompetent indeed!"
With a brilliant flash of starlight, Amon dodged the dragon's fiery breath. The spot where he had just been standing was struck by the flame and instantly transformed into an array of variously colored crystals.
"What an interesting method of attack," the Amon avatar mused, looking at the crystallized ground with genuine curiosity.
The block dragon's intelligence did not seem particularly high. It made no attempt to communicate, instead continuously spewing streams of its crystallizing flame at him. The Amon avatar's response was deceptively simple: he casually reached forward with his right hand, stealing all of the dragon's attacks before they could reach him.
As the Amon avatar toyed with the block dragon, he suddenly felt a powerful and oppressive presence. The world itself seemed to come alive, constantly folding and contracting around him, finally enveloping him entirely. The space wrapping the Amon avatar continuously shrank, compressing and transforming into a crystal cylinder the size of a large shipping container.
Shapes of intricate doorways suddenly appeared on the crystal's surface, and the Amon avatar walked directly out of his prison, completely unharmed.
"The sovereign of this realm is approaching," he noted. "He does not seem like an easy opponent. I had best make myself scarce."
With that, the Amon avatar's form dissolved into sparkling starlight and dissipated into nothingness. Through that brief exchange, the Amon avatar could infer that the dimension's ruler possessed strength that had, at the very least, reached the Angel level. The chances of winning a direct confrontation were very slim, and it would likely require summoning his main body. Therefore, the avatar chose to utilize the authority of the Concealment domain to hide himself completely. Once he found Mikhail, he would take him and leave directly, thereby avoiding any direct conflict with the dimension's powerful sovereign. With the Authority of Concealment, the ruler of this dimension would find it incredibly difficult to locate him, as long as he did not actively expose himself.
Somewhere else in the pocket dimension, there was a bustling city constructed entirely from toy building blocks. Its streets were populated with many common Earth-based toys and dolls. At the center of the city stood a giant arena, reminiscent of the Roman Colosseum. The Amon avatar, whose appearance he had altered into a stylized and miniaturized form, sat among the spectator stands, watching the matches below alongside many other dolls.
Below, a toy robot had just torn a cowboy-dressed rag doll in half, sending cotton stuffing flying everywhere. The dolls in the stands cheered wildly, and the Amon avatar joined them, applauding the brutal display.
In the very center of the spectator stands was a special, elevated seat. On a huge throne sat a doll wearing a crown. Amon's avatar could confirm that this crowned doll was the sovereign of this entire dimension.
The rag doll that had been torn in half was not truly dead; the part containing its head could still move. It was currently trying to collect its scattered cotton stuffing. Afterwards, it could recover simply by being sewn back together, though its appearance might not be quite as aesthetically pleasing as before.
"I recall that Sakaar's Grandmaster also had such an arena. What a similar and peculiar hobby," the Amon avatar pondered silently. He wasn't here simply to watch a bunch of toys fight. He was here because he had divined that his elder brother, Mikhail, was in this very place. He simply hadn't anticipated that the lord of this dimension would also be present.
"This does make things a bit more difficult." If the dimension's ruler wasn't here, he could have easily used his abilities to take Mikhail away. But now, operating directly under the sovereign's very nose, he would have to be exceedingly careful.
"They're coming out!" a gasp came from someone in the spectator stands. The Amon avatar squinted, and his eyes lit up with recognition.
After the remains of the cowboy rag doll were cleaned off the stage, four dolls dressed as cosmonauts came out. Their appearance was similar to Buzz Lightyear from 'Toy Story,' but they looked utterly miserable. Two of them were even missing arms and legs, and the remaining two had clear signs of recent repair on their bodies, likely from previous battles.
"Big brother, I've found you," the Amon avatar thought to himself.
The four cosmonaut dolls in the arena were none other than Mikhail and his three companions. After falling into this world, they had been captured by the dimension's ruler's subordinates and brought to this arena to serve as gladiators for the amusement of the toy populace.
The guard doll responsible for the entrance suddenly stiffened, then took a monocle from within its fabric body and placed it over its right eye. It was now one of the Amon avatar's secret puppets.
Perhaps because they were all toys, the intelligence level of the creatures in this realm was generally equivalent to that of a ten-year-old child, including the toy robots currently waiting in the arena. With the coordinated effort of Mikhail and his three well-trained cosmonaut companions, they easily defeated their robotic opponents.
The four of them walked toward the entrance they had come from. One of the cosmonauts took off his glass helmet and complained bitterly: "When will this damned life end? My right arm was broken in the last fight, and now I have to go in for repairs again."
Mikhail, the captain of the four, saw his comrade's despair and offered some comfort: "Pavel, there will be a way out. I've already found out that star gladiators get to decide their own fate in this arena. I believe it won't be long before we can leave this place."
"I mean leave this whole toy world," Pavel grumbled.
As his words fell, all four of them fell silent. Since arriving in this strange world a month ago, they had tried everything they could think of, but they saw no hope of ever leaving.