Void Evolution System

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.

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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