The Farthest Edge of reality was not a physical place. It was a conceptual boundary where the vibrant tapestry of the new universe met the rotting graveyard of the old one. Here, the laws of physics were completely meaningless. Time did not flow forward. Space did not expand. There was only the suffocating grey fog and the millions of hateful, hollow eyes staring down at the tiny man holding an obsidian sword.
The millions of faces in the mist opened their mouths in perfect unison. They did not speak with words. They spoke with the crushing weight of cosmic authority. The sound was a telepathic roar that tasted like ash and smelled like ozone.
"You are a curse, Khaos," the Primordial entity bellowed. "You destroyed perfection because you were a flawed, angry child. Now, you play house in a universe made of stolen dust. We will erase your theft. We will erase your lineage. We will erase every memory of your pathetic existence."
