846 Great Wound

The are times when words and languages fail to describe certain scenes.

His back to the divine light of the seven gods, Joshua, who was alone, lifted his eyes to look ahead. It was pitch-black as far as his eyes could see—it was the thickest of ink and the darkness that kills all light stretched ahead without end.

Like the lonesome warrior who stood before the vast seas, watching the deathly oceans.

The Nether River that gathered from every direction of the galaxy converged there. The raging flows of worlds ruined rumbled and submerged here, eventually becoming a part of the darkness. It was infinitely dangerous here millennia ago since millions of worlds were born here in every single second, before darting away to every corner of all dimensions. The unthinkable shift of mass and gravity would tear apart all weak beings, and even gods would have to stay vigilant in every moment to any mishap.

But now, it was silent.