It had been a year after the meeting at Booze Palace, and Rowan was now alone. He would have rested here for a few decades, but the war all over reality was heating up, and he had wasted enough time already, Old Man Seed and Elura must be waiting for his return, and he had delayed that inevitable process enough at this point.
This year spent had allowed him to finalize his ability to deceive reality, which would be greater than anyone could ever manage because he was not just an immortal but a living dimension, a reality unto himself, and he understood the fabrics of space better than any living immortal save for the Primordial Chaos.
