I stand at the very edge of Serpentara, a floating island suspended in the void of space. Seraphiel, Veronica, and Selveriah are beside me on a small, levitating platform. The view from up here is breathtaking, offering a complete panorama of this strange, awe-inspiring land.
Serpentara isn't like any ordinary land—it's a massive island suspended in space, held aloft by enormous chains that stretch into the void. There's no sky, no horizon, just the endless expanse of the astral void above and below.
But what's even more impressive is the fact that Seraphiel, the archangel, created this entire realm by himself. Every rock, every tree, every blade of grass—it's all his handiwork. Well, aside from a few buildings and the odd bits of construction that others added later. But the foundation of Serpentara, this majestic island, is entirely his creation.
"Jack, I suppose you already know what Serpentara really is," Seraphiel says, his voice echoing in the stillness.
