The gravity shear tried to tear Lin Ke’s lungs out through his ribs.
To his left, the air was high-pressure to four crushing deep-sea pressure of searing, sun-hot heat. To his right, air pressure plunged to zero, sucking the moisture from his tongue and freezing his spit into tiny crystals before it left his lips.
The vanguard had breached the threshold of the Causal Horizon. He stepped into the Primordial Bus Chamber.
It wasn’t a temple. It wasn’t a mountain pass. It was a huge, featureless expanse of dark black glass channels, stretching into an endless void crisscrossed by glowing ribbons of raw, unmodulated logic.
Suspended at the center of the chamber were two towering, ancient behemoths.
To the east burned the Sovereign of Genesis.
It stood ten thousand feet tall, a self-running manifestation forged from blinding white nuclear fusion, blazing bright nebulae, and molten world-size cores. Every heartbeat, its surface pulsed with the violent birth of new star clusters, crying out to write mass into the emptiness.
To the west spun the Sovereign of Oblivion.
