God's imagination no longer had the imperative to maintain space, time, scientific laws of physics, or to delineate fiction from non-fiction.
Skies, hexadecimal swaths, and astral bodies from all kinds of realities, both virtual and non-virtual, blended together like a shattered monitor as Maverick's new fusion snaked across all the infinite vistas. Within an asteroid belt trying to find a body to circle around, Bastian and Uzi were levitating desperately towards the lion-snake demiurge, the imprisoned one platoon's jaunter named Primetime could now be coiled anywhere across Maverick's cosmic body. Chances were likely that the cube she was imprisoned in was lightyears away by now, yet Uzi and Bastian never gave up. Thanks to both of them, Yggdrasilland could use the pair to create a spawn point.
I'll rescue Monica, I'll open a dimension to get you two to safety, Yggdrasilland instructed somewhere from the stars.
Iggy? Iker? Bastian asked on Uzi's mindlink.
One mountainous space-fantasy planet stretched across the sky and space horizons, as if size became as relative as time itself. With phosphorescent acid rain pelting upon a baleful onyx castle, its dreary walls now stretched to be the torso of an undead knight. Eldritch angels, once upon a time a pastiche of hands and eyes, had now taken a comprehensible shape, glowing fingers overlapping in pristine fractals to look more like dove wings. And they danced skyward in the glowing acid rain, and they mixed like blessed paint to form the shape of a human skull that stretched across galaxies. All the effulgence from the skyborne raindrops collapsed into two lavender suns, becoming the glowing eyes of the centaur god spawning.
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From the planet that now became an infinite plane of existence itself across these crashing, merging, and splitting realities, the shoulders of forged and gargantuan onyx arms rose from the uncountable amount of mountains.
I don't even think I have to risk using my weapons, Iggy said across the plane.
The speed of perceivable light and the gravity weaving across all the chaos kept readjusting itself to the objective of Yggdrasilland as shadows and light bent to the one heavenward black gauntlet reaching for the lion-snake trying to stretch for infinity itself. His metal-clad fingers stretching for an ominous grasp attracted asteroid belts from nebulae to weave around his moving palm. His decisive grab for the coil cut through swaths of nebulae to make it all look like splashing radiation, and within his large thumb and index finger was the much needed cube prison. And like black stained glass, Yggdrasilland could pierce through it to see a transfixed and mesmerized Monica 'Primetime' Comsa, the jaunter of one platoon.
