Praetorum found himself in a world of nonsense. There was colored light, all colors, as far as the eye could see, in all directions. Praetorum would find himself standing upon a narrow road, made of... purple. It didn't appear to have substance, but it was very clearly purple. It ended right behind the man, and extended out before Praetorum, in a swirling pattern that was more akin to someone signing their name than a road or path.
And in this place, Praetorum's spark was singing within him. It was in pure bliss, brimming with power and seemed nearly able to speak to Praetorum. He could feel that it wanted to speak to him, he could feel that it as trying. But it simply... couldn't. All around Praetorum were an infinite number of other pathways, colored, different from his own. In the distance, down and to his left, way down below, there was a bright ball of glowing light. Up above, behind him and to the right, was a dark void, pure blackness. Both had paths of various colors leading to them.
Praetorum would find that gravity didn't necessarily seem to work as it normally would here. While he was physically on a path, gravity would pull on him as it normally might. But should Praetorum ever fully leave a path, he would find himself falling, in any direction, to the next nearest path, but never to the one he left.
And then the paths began to move, adjust, as did the bright orb and the dark void. Some of the paths rippled like water, others swung like a whip, some twisted, some jerked, some went flat, and others made near impossible angles and peaks. Praetorum's purple path though, began to split in half, down the length, right between his feet.