The stub of a candle from His Flesh was burning out in the middle of the Great Nothing. The flame of the Reflection of His Soul fluttering at the tip of the wick cast thousands of silent Shadows. Here one of the Faceless Ones bowed her head to her shoulder, chuckled thoughtfully and wrinkled her forehead. A local second of eternity for reflection and the Shadow took up an artifact brush, the work of the Hands of Himself. The shaft is from a young shoot of the Tree of Worlds. The brush is made from the wool of the Heavenly Beast. The only one in this layer of reality. Star dust under the paws of his roads... Carefully dipping his brush into the inkwell, the Shadow froze, waiting for the scarlet drops of the ink mixed with His Blood to flow down. Several endless moments and the disembodied hand hovered over the parchment of the Universe. The candle light flickered, the celestial spheres lined up in a curious combination - promising the reincarnating creature an eternity of time, multiplied by an infinity of possibilities... The brush lowered, and the calligraphically written runes ran across the parchment in intricate script. Macro-Location: Tree of the Worlds. Tier: “0” - “Nursery” gods." Sub-location: Personal Halls of a lower entity of a higher order. Access mode to the zero tier: one-time, upon receipt of status. Exit - one-time, conditionally free. Entry - conditionally prohibited. PvP in the location - conditionally impossible. Speed of the time flow to standard: 1 to 100. Bow your head before the Creator's heritage - there is enough time for everything!