-Heaven of The Thirty-Three...
In a great hall inside of a golden divine realm, a group of gods were seated before only one.
He was a figure to be revered. His voice held no authoritarian distinction or harshness, but everyone accepted his words as if they were holy writ.
And perhaps that wasn't far off from the truth.
The man, despite being divine, was not an overly handsome figure. Nor was he slathered in riches or fineries.
He wasn't too fat or too thin. Rather, he was perfectly situated in the middle.
He wore modest orange robes that were impeccable in their cleanliness and free of wrinkles.
His earlobes were slightly stretched and dangled past his cheekbones.
The left side of his face was covered in Sanskrit writings of great profundity. His eyes were closed, but his consciousness was never something called into question.
