Space is not empty. It is filled with something -- or perhaps it is something. A presence. A substance. A force. It is neither inert nor lifeless; it shifts, pulses, and moves as if it were alive.

It is called the Astral.

Vast and unfathomable, the Astral stretches beyond the limits of sight, a boundless ocean of unimaginable colors. If one could travel far enough to see it from a distance, they might glimpse a great, swirling cloud spanning light-years across. But no one ever has. No one ever will. For the Astral absorbs all who stray too far into its depths.

The Astral is both creator and destroyer. At times, its destructive forces surge unchecked, tearing apart entire worlds caught in its grasp. But destruction breeds renewal. As if governed by an unseen balance, the Creative forces rise to mend what was broken, reshaping the ruins into something new. Some call it nature. Others call it fate.