The white void did not kill them. Instead, it dissolved them into raw consciousness, stripping away the heavy armor of their physical bodies until only the essence of their resolve remained. Lyra felt herself drifting through a tapestry of forgotten moments, watching scenes of kingdoms she had never visited and faces of people who had been erased by the Ascendants. She was a ghost in the machinery of existence, and beside her, Malphas was a dying spark, his light flickering against the crushing weight of the infinite.
I can hear them, Lyra whispered, her voice existing as a vibration in the emptiness. The billions of echoes, the lives that were torn from the timeline. They are not gone, Malphas. They are trapped in the debris of the tower.
Malphas drifted closer, his form coalescing into
