Eve waved her fingers, and the iridescent ocean began pouring into the canvas, yet it also burned everything before them to ashes like fire.
Civilizations perished one after another. The gods had once tried to save this land, and for a time, the radiance of faith shone across it.
But when even that radiance was swallowed by the ocean of phlogiston, these embodiments of visions shaped by the gods finally departed for the more distant stars—in this vast universe, this was not the only land where life existed.
"Doomsday?"
The Progenitor, forced to kneel before the Snake God's stone tablet, hysterically recited the teachings of Ouroboros. "Prosperity, decline, revival! There has never been a true doomsday in this world, only cycle after cycle of rebirth!"
Eve nodded. "You're right. Life moves in cycles and never vanishes forever. After the ocean of phlogiston devours us completely, new life will give the gods its faith, until it too is cast into this forgotten continent. That certainly qualifies as a cycle."
"Cast into... this continent?"
Her answer exceeded the Progenitor's imagination.
As he hesitated, the canvas turned to ash, but Eve spread out a fresh one. "As this land's most ancient inhabitants, you ought to recognize what makes it different. Different calendars for different races, similar yet contradictory legends, chaotic and intermingled rules... Here, there are people who blindly worship the gods, yet there are also empires that regard them as equals through reason."
Within the canvas, a floating golden empire suddenly blotted out the clear sky above a beastfolk tribe established in the wilderness.
"The Feywild crossed the corridors between planes and settled openly within the verdant forests."
A towering tree shimmered with gilded leaves. Every new leaf that fell beneath its swaying shadow became a paradise for fairies.
"The dark clouds