Sublime

It was a flickering, buzzing gray that looked like the world hadn’t made up its mind what color it should be. And it shifted and twitched in place like it was made of ten million tiny insects. Little Blue shuddered back from it, while Orthos gave a gasp. “Void Matter,” Lindon said. “The ultimate treasure of destruction aura.”

Through the realms of the monarch Sun Creeps a world, whose course had begun, On a weary path with a weary pace, Before the Earth sprang forth on her race: But many a time the Earth had sped Around the path she still must tread, Ere the elder planet, on leaden wing, Once circled the court of the planet's king. There, in that lonely and distant

She floated in endless emptiness, the pure void. Even the distant swirls of color that she usually saw in the void, wild fragments of broken worlds, were so distant that she couldn’t see them. This was a pure lack of existence.