Cinder stepped forward, leaving the liminal expanse behind. Before him stretched Little Garden—not merely a world, but a vast convergence where human history, gods, demons, dragons, and countless possibilities of the multiverse coexisted. The land was immense, its surface area rivaling that of a star. The sky shimmered with innumerable stars and constellations, each potentially representing a community, a pantheon, or a story long forgotten.
Around him, his pantheon of Flaming Great Ones emerged, each child blazing with their own fire, shifting and writhing, subtly vying for his attention. They were his children, born of his blood and flame. Some flickered with divine golden light, others burned with the icy cold of ghostfire, some writhed with rot and corruption, yet all moved with the cohesion of a family.
Cinder's focus turned to the three-digit gates, thresholds where beings of comparable power resided. He slowed, extending his senses to scan the surrounding areas, searching for a place that was unoccupied.
He found a stretch of land untouched by other powers, quiet and empty. To anyone else, it might have seemed ordinary—but to Cinder, it was perfect.
He knelt, letting his fingers brush the ground. Gradually, the land began to fold into the universe he had created. This was not a doorway or an extension—it became a literal part of his world, overlapping seamlessly with the territory he had shaped. Step by step, he could walk from Little Garden directly into his world, the two realities coexisting at this point.
The pantheon moved around him, observing silently, their flames flickering as the land adapted to their presence. The overlapping of realms stabilized quickly under their influence, their fires reflecting the merging of realities.
Cinder stood, surveying the transformed land. This spot was now his—a fixed point in Little Garden where his universe intersected with the world. Here, he and his children could operate freely, a foothold wholly under their control.
For the first time in Little Garden, Cinder and his pantheon could act without restraint. The land was theirs, a portion of his creation now anchored firmly within this chaotic nexus. Around him, the Flaming Great Ones shifted and writhed, each eager to explore, each trying subtly to draw his attention, like children seeking acknowledgment from their parent.
Cinder allowed himself a brief moment to take it all in. His pantheon, his power, and his world were here. They had arrived. Little Garden would take notice, sooner or later, but for now, he had claimed his place.