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As his proclamation echoed and he dropped the rune pillar, the sky above him cracked open. A great, spiraling vortex of silver and deep blue unfurled, an ethereal bridge stretching into the divine realm. The moment his foot touched the path of silver light, the air around him shifted. His mortal shell could no longer contain the power surging within him—his body shimmered, his form unraveling into pure divinity.

The mortal world faded behind him. Ahead, a vast emptiness stretched, waiting to be shaped by his will. 

Maul closed his eyes and let his essence expand, his very being merging with the forming world. He did not seek warmth or paradise. His domain would reflect his soul—a frozen abyss, vast and unforgiving, yet unbreakable in its silent embrace.