In the boundless Void, a ray of Starlight flickered.
"Flickered" was not quite accurate—Starlight was neither a lamp nor a star, but a quieter, steadier light.
Within the Starlight stood an enormous gate beyond description, giving the impression of an entire world.
Beyond the gate was an empty grand hall.
At the center of the hall, Amon sat in a high-backed chair. The chair's back rose above his head, casting a heavy shadow that enveloped his entire body. His head was slightly lowered, and the brim of his Pointed Soft Hat hid most of his face, revealing only a pale chin and the crystal Monocle over his right eye. The lens reflected the cold white light of the hall.
After his life essence rose once more, his mastery over the Gate of Order deepened.
He could use the Gate of Order's power for long periods to probe the surrounding Void. However, he found such probing rather useless. The Void was simply too vast—so vast that even "vast" was insufficient to describe it.
Even with the Gate of Order's enhancement, all he could sense was emptiness. No light, no sound, no temperature, no end.
Thus, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. It was a form of self-protection. In this utterly dead environment without any echo, if he did not close his eyes and sever his perception of the outside world, his mind would be eroded by loneliness and solitude amid the boundless emptiness.
Eroded.
Who knew how much time had passed.
In this Void, where there was no rising sun or setting moon, no changing seasons, and no scale by which to measure time, the question of "how long" had no meaning. Perhaps it was a second, perhaps ten thousand years, perhaps even longer.
Suddenly, a strange ripple jolted him