A vast, endless expanse stretched out like a dream. Adam's personal dimension—shaped by his will—was a fusion of stars, ancient ruins, and floating landmasses bathed in twilight. Gravity shifted with his mood. Space bent with his movement.
In the center of it all stood Adam, shirtless, barefoot, and calm. His eyes glowed faintly with swirling cosmic light. Around him hovered three perfect replicas—his clones—each radiating a different shade of power. One cloaked in flame, another pulsing with raw energy, the third wreathed in shadows.
"Alright..." Adam muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Let's try again. This time... no breaking my sky."
From a distance, Nyros floated on a golden cloud, munching on fruit he conjured out of nowhere, still in the form of a six-year-old boy.
"I'm impressed you haven't destroyed the entire dimension yet," he giggled. "Progress!"
Krozak stood beside Wraith on a hovering stone platform, arms crossed, both watching in silence.
