The sky had no stars.
No sun, no moons, no horizon—just a blank vault of nothing stretched infinitely above and around. The world Aiden had created pulsed gently beneath his feet, still raw, still forming. The soil shimmered with possibility. The air hummed with threads of intent not yet woven into meaning. It was a new reality, yes—but one still scarred by what had been undone.
Aiden stood on a hill that wasn't a hill, overlooking a valley that hadn't yet decided what shape it wanted to take. It shifted slowly, breathing like a living dream, quiet and uncertain.
He closed his eyes.
The Thought That Never Was had retreated—or had it been erased? No, not erased. That kind of thing could never truly be gone. It was simply dormant now, buried deeper beneath the skin of reality, waiting. Watching. Unwritten.
He could feel it.
A pulse behind every silence. A beat just under every quiet breath of wind.
Aiden opened his eyes again and reached out with his spirit sense.
