Sunny dreamt of boundless blue skies.
Beneath them, a patchwork of islands floated in the air, laid on the backdrop of velvety darkness like a beautiful mosaic. Some islands were verdant and green, some were desolate and empty, and some were covered by ancient ruins, the weathered stones overgrown by moss.
All of them were bound by colossal iron chains that rattled loudly as the islands rose and fell, hovering above the abyss, a scattering of pale stars shining somewhere far, far below them. In the center of the mosaic, an ugly wound gaped, a vast tear in space where nothing but emptiness remained.
A lone island soared above that tear, seven torn chains hanging from its slopes, a beautiful white pagoda standing on its surface in a mantle of clouds.
