Sunny drifted through the viscous, oily texture of the negation domain, his mind a whirlwind of cold calculations and hardening resolve.
The darkness here did not just block sight; it seemed to eat the very concept of potential.
In the world outside, he was a Sovereign, a being who could weave multiverses into his soul and command the fundamental laws of reality with a casual snap of his fingers. Here, he was a man.
A high-tier, cosmic-blooded man, certainly, but stripped of the divine machinery that made him a God.
His Nihilium Omniscience was dead. His Void Step was a memory. Even his connection to the System, that constant hum of data and progression that had been his heartbeat for centuries, had gone silent.
He was trapped in a sphere of expanding non-existence that moved faster than his physical body could travel.
At this rate, he wouldn't just be imprisoned; he would be the center of a growing void that would eventually swallow everything he had ever built.
