"Tell me, have you heard of the Transient Realm?" The peculiar man asked with wide, unblinking eyes that stared at the sealed gateway. "It's a world just like ours, only an infinitesimal fragment of an atom in size."
"--" Lamore caught his breath, letting the cultist talk if it meant giving himself the time to recover.
The unnaturally pale man continued with a smile enrichened by curiosity, "There's a realm the opposite of that. Compared to it, we're a Transient Realm–completely negligible to its vast reaches. Can you imagine it? Our world, filled to the brim with boundless magics and monsters, joyous calamities–to think, there's another realm that dwarfs ours. I must see it, I absolutely must—the Grand Realm."
"What does that have to do with Ballou…?" Lamore questioned, speaking even as he winced from his wounds. "--This city, its people–why can't you just leave things be?!"
