Celestial Plane — Moments Later
The Temple faded behind him.
Joshua walked forward, coat brushing lightly against his ankles as stardust curled at his feet. The Celestial Plane wasn't made of ground—it was made of presence. Each step he took left no mark, but something still shifted under him. Like even this realm respected his movement.
He kept his hands behind his back. Calm. Focused.
But his eyes… they scanned everything.
The sky above churned without wind. Planets moved out of sync. Stars blinked in odd rhythms. The colors in the distance—too many. Too wrong. Fuchsia bleeding into midnight, bleeding into silence.
The multiverse had flinched.
And Joshua was trying to find where it bled.
He moved past constellations frozen mid-birth, stepped over floating runes the size of cities. The deeper he went, the heavier the air felt. Not with gravity. With consequence.
That feeling—like something massive had just breathed in a place where breath shouldn't exist.
