Ash hovered calmly in the endless black, completely unfazed by the crushing pressure of the Primordial Expanse.
His reddish-purple eyes carried a lazy, almost playful glint as he looked at the towering silhouette before him.
"Well," he said, his tone light and teasing, "you haven't changed a bit."
The Father had been intent on molding the vast Primordial Ocean below when he suddenly froze.
His hands stopped mid-motion, and for a moment, he didn't turn. Instead, his head tilted ever so slightly, as though catching a sound that had no place in this realm.
A low, cold voice echoed across the void.
"…Who dares step into my home?"
The pressure in the space thickened in an instant, as if the very essence of Nonexistence itself bristled at the intrusion.
The Father's silhouette turned deeper into the shadows, stretching outward as he slowly began to turn.
