On the fourth layer of space, a lonely island drifted quietly. It wasn't too big—just a few meters wide. At its center stood a solitary figure. He had slightly dark skin and maintained a strange posture. His entire body was suspended in the air, balanced only by a single fingernail—yes, not a thumb, but his fingernail.
His upper body was ripped—sleek, lean, and explosively built. This was Void. And he was being watched by Linkir, who had just appeared.
"Void," Linkir called softly as Void's closed eyes opened and locked onto her.
He slowly shifted, rising from the precarious posture to stand upright. He gazed at her.
"Is the trial over?" Void asked with a smile as a throne made of bones materialized behind him. He sat down, bare-chested, as Linkir responded.
"Yes," she replied.
"How many survivors?" Void asked calmly.
"For those between the Planetary Realm and the Evolved Realm, there are one thousand in total. We also have ten Galaxy-level beings," Linkir answered.
