The World Was Divided

That power rose from his palm.

It climbed into the sky, passed through the clouds, pierced the atmosphere, and entered the starry void.

It was like a growing tree, starting from Ian's palm and extending in every direction, taking root in this universe's space.

It took root in this universe's time, in every physical law of this universe. This was a mighty power that belonged only to the level of a Creator.

And now Ian wielded it with practiced ease.

Heaven was being built. Not with brick and stone, not with wood, not with any material substance, but with rules—rules that wove, intertwined, and fused under his power, forming an entirely new dimension, one that did not belong to the material world, to the timeline, or to any known physical law.

There was light there. Not the glaring, scorching light of the sun that made it impossible to look straight at, but another kind, gentler and softer, like the first ray of morning sunlight passing through a curtain. That light did not illuminate anything, because it itself was everything.

The light of Heaven.

That was how it should be.

It seemed to pour out of the void, born from Ian's rules, blooming from those woven, intertwined, and fused powers. It spread across the entire dimension, filling every corner, like a thin golden veil gently draped over the newborn world.

There was warmth there.

Not the burning, dangerous warmth of flame that made people instinctively retreat, but another kind, more comfortable and reassuring, like the warmth of a mother's embrace.

That warmth needed no heat source, no combustion, no physical energy of any kind.

It seeped out from the rules, radiated from the order Ian had brought from the DC universe, and flowed from the absorbed power of the demon gods.