The corridor of starflight unraveled like a river of pure light, bending across realms with impossible grace.
One step, and the team was pulled through.
No fanfare. No rush of wind. Just the quiet hum of drifting stars as they passed into a new world.
And then—
They arrived.
It was like falling into a dream.
The world of Ostarius wasn't a planet. Not really. It was a massive floating structure—a fortress the size of a continent, suspended above a churning cosmic sea. Broken moons drifted around it like shattered beads. The sky was neither day nor night—just a gradient of color from violet to gold, with constellations that shifted like breathing creatures.
Ostarius itself… was a relic. Tall spires of blacksteel, lined with flowing light. Giant doors sealed with sigils that pulsed with life. Floating platforms moved like clockwork, revealing layers upon layers of machinery and forgotten systems. Everything about this place felt ancient—but not abandoned. It was waiting.
