Chapter 1318 Painting [1]
The fluctuations of the return portal contained aspects of space and time that revolved in quite the interesting fashion.
Since it was a product of the universe itself and not a practitioner's skill, it was far more complex, yet far more ingrained in nature than anything a living being could produce.
That was why Damien didn't feel strange as he stepped into it.
As usual, space and time warped around him. With his unique senses as a Spacetime practitioner, he was able to sense the corridor that was transporting him, as well as the others being transported by it.
The smooth breeze of space brushes across Damien's face. He looked around and saw the various spatial phenomena taking place outside the bounds of the corridor and marveled at them.
This sight was always something he could appreciate.
It was the true strength of space and time, that which existences within it could never reproduce.
He calmly observed the environment and felt the life auras of those around him disappearing one by one as they reached their final destination.
Only he, Iris, and Tiamat remained, but it was odd.
They should've been moving at a constant speed.
So…
Why were they accelerating ahead of him?
Why was he slowly decelerating?
'Why is it taking so long?'
It was true that he could perceive the journey in real time because of his abilities, but that didn't mean the journey would elongate.
The concept of speed should've been constant within the corridor.
Those who entered together would exit together, and the gap between the exit times of those who entered first and those who entered last should've been consistent with their entrance times.
However, this clearly wasn't the case right now.
'Is this…'
Just as Damien tried to rationalize the phenomenon, everything went silent.
The Spacetime phenomena around the corridor vanished, and then the corridor itself escaped his perception.
No, it was better to say his perception was completely cut off.
"..."
He tried to speak, but no words came out of his mouth.
Any semblance of the Spacetime corridor, the Ancient Battlefield, or even Grand Heavens Boundary disappeared from his surroundings.
All that remained was a familiar blackness.
'Where am I?' He wondered.
He never expected something to go wrong at a time like this, but he also didn't panic.
He knew his current state couldn't be the work of enemies, since there were no enemies left with enough power to do something like this.
'Let's think for a second.'
Damien calmed his mind.
He was already used to blackness like this, and since Iris and Tiamat weren't with him, it meant this wasn't a product of the portal either.
'They must've arrived safely in Grand Heavens Boundary like the rest. Why was I the only one separated?'
He tried to move his body, and found that he did indeed have the capability.
He wasn't separated in consciousness, nor was he in a state where he was completely disconnected from reality.
He waded through the darkness cautiously.
'I feel like I'm moving, but I also feel like I've been stationary this whole time. This kind of feeling…'
Damien frowned as a memory appeared in his mind.
'Yeah, this is what it was like back then. The only difference is that this time, I've retained my sense of self.'
It was back in the Space-Time River, when he was almost swallowed whole by the concepts he wasn't strong enough to control yet.
'If it's like that, then shouldn't there be something else here?'
Damien quickly adapted to his circumstances and started looking for a way out.
He was in no mood to struggle more right now.
But, strangely, it didn't feel like he was trapped.
No, he felt rather at home in this environment.
'The only thing I can do is search until I find something.'
He wasn't able to tell exactly where the familiarity came from, even after wading around like this.
He tried to spread his awareness, but he soon found that he lacked that capability.
'Is my strength inhibited?'
He raised his arm and tried to manifest Divine Energy, but that didn't work either.
'Then…'
Instead, he used his energy in its base state.
'As expected.'
The so-called Void Energy with the capability to transmute into anything could be used without a problem.
He had an inkling of what was happening.
This darkness was different from the rest.
It blocked skills that had to do with finding its identity, and it blocked skills related to reality. Anything else, anything involved with the Void, and even Existence Law, was still usable.
'I'm…'
Damien stopped moving and truly immersed himself in the surroundings.
He stopped thinking, he stopped acting, and he simply became one with it.
He allowed everything to leave him besides his identity as Damien Void.
And that was when it appeared.
A painting.
A beautiful multi-layered painting that couldn't be described with words and existed in at least ten-dimensional space.
Was it even right to call it a painting? It was massive to the point where size became irrelevant, absolutely dwarfing Damien like a universe compared to an ant.
It was ever-changing, and its content couldn't be easily distinguished. To an unlearned viewer, it would look like a chaotic mix of brush strokes made by someone with no intent or purpose whatsoever.
The nature of this painting, its existence in ten-dimensional space, would likely shatter the minds of any who tried to understand its contents.
Naturally, Damien was excluded from this.
He gazed upon it, and instead of feeling confusion, he felt his mind becoming clearer.
The individual brush strokes came to life in his eyes, each manifesting into a scene unlike any other on the canvas of blackness.
As he focused on a single brush stroke, he saw many things.
One stroke could be the life of a man, from birth to death, filled with trials and tribulations as well as moments of cherished happiness.
However, when he looked at the stroke next to it, he'd find it unraveling into a complexly structured law, an ethereal force with no material presence in reality.
Each and every stroke had its own meaning. While they looked identical at first glance, when they were deciphered, one would find a true myriad of scenes and concepts that shouldn't have been able to exist on the same canvas without conflicting with each other.
How could they be equal when they inherently were not?
Or…
'In the eyes of the painter, are they all equal?'
Damien's fractured perception started to return to normalcy.
He started to understand the nature of this painting, and as a result, the identity of this space.
That was the trigger.
The "painting" unraveled.
Contained within a sphere with no real end or beginning was that "painting."
And standing outside the sphere in the blackness was Damien.
'That painting…'
His eyes narrowed.
'...is reality.'
"Huu…"
He took a deep breath.
It was the first sound he heard since arriving here.
'And that means…'
His heart beat wildly.
His mind ran in circles in both excitement and a hint of fear.
'This place…'
He understood where he was.
He knew why the blackness felt familiar.
And as he understood it, his entire being changed.
'This place is the Void.'
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