Raven drifted through the Mist Labyrinth.
Countless tiny grains of sand around her continued to leap about, following no tangible trajectories. Or perhaps they were merely expanding, contracting, colliding with, and repelling one another.
These fragmented grains of sand had inherited the initial force they received when they were Torn from a relatively complete state, then were acted upon by countless forces of the same or similar origins, resulting in astonishing complexity.
Moreover, supported and disturbed by another set of construction rules bleeding over from Earth Local Time-Space, that complexity had increased by another order of magnitude and was still continuously expanding.
There were no inherent laws of ordinary time-space here, yet fragments of similar laws constantly intertwined and interacted, producing countless possibilities.
"Possibility," along with the process of its emergence and continuation, possessed a peculiar beauty. It was like flowers built from countless coincidences on a canvas continuously sprayed and smeared with paint, without a speck of white left visible—blooming and withering in an instant.
Of course, no actual flowers existed. Only those with the corresponding gifts and abilities could glimpse that beautiful, dazzling "regularity of possibility."
And if one wished to find and lock onto the most valuable of those flowers that bloomed and withered in an instant, then conduct deeper research, one needed more than extraordinary powers of observation. One also needed tenacious patience, some ability to interfere, even the ability to maintain control, lest body and mind be assimilated into this unique Sea of Flowers that flowed without end.
At times, Raven found it taxing as well, but she quickly grew accustomed to it.
This was how Raven perceived things.
After awakening through the "Altar Framework" Ronan had created, Raven had constantly been adapting to her own abilities. Their rate of expansion was astonishing. Over the