At first Avery ignored his new idea, unwilling to put any more effort into a doomed venture, but it stuck in his brain, nagging him until he properly considered it. Even then, it wasn't enough, and he rolled to his side and disregarded it.

  He tossed and turned, his mind a whirlpool of panic and discomfort. Sometimes he fell asleep, but the darkness would follow him in his nightmares. Soon he couldn’t even be sure whether he was asleep or not, as everything was blurring together under a uniform blanket of misery.

  How much time had passed? Day, weeks, months? It was impossible to tell, but it hardly mattered. Avery never changed, the abyss never changed, nothing ever changed.

  It was only after an indeterminate amount of time that a change occurred. In his mindless flailing about, he had unintentionally rammed his knee into his discarded stylus.

  Annoyed at this interruption to his mental ordeal, Avery slowly extended his hand towards it, wanting to dislodge it and throw it away, out of sight and out of mind.

  However, as his fingers touched it, a few fleeting memories emerged, along with a sentiment of defiance, and a desire for survival. He was going to stay alive and triumph over this stupid dragon, and his stylus would be his weapon.

  Avery was desperately hanging on to the last thread of sanity he had left, forcing out one final spark of motivation to fight against the abyss.

  He needed to make one more attempt to put all of his doubts to rest. That way, he could know for sure. Did he have a chance, or was it all a cruel joke, and he was indeed doomed to be a prisoner for all eternity?

  Finally, after a long hesitation, he decided he could make one last effort before the end. He already knew he would fail, but the least he could was to run the race to its completion.

  Having convinced himself, Avery reluctantly recalled his previous visualisation, whining internally that this was a massive waste of time and effort. He almost gave up instantly when he grasped just how much damage his recent mental turmoil had dealt to his visualisation, but in the end he only sighed, still determined to see it through.

  He slowly repaired his landscape, but the process felt hollow, with no passion, no joy or frustration, just mindless work, and a yearning for everything to be over.

  He managed to make his mental picture almost identical to how it was at its peak, but it also felt tremendously empty, a work of art without a soul. He noticed this, but disregarded it. He had promised himself he would restore his visualisation, and he had done that. He would not waste time on annoying details.

  Now that it was done, it was time to see if his useless brain had really come up with a good idea.

  He had been reviewing the lengthy process during which he had attempted to identify what were the best concepts to include in his visualisation, laughing at himself for not coming to conclusions that were obvious in hindsight. In his mocking crusade, he had endeavoured to find flaws in his reasoning or things he had missed.

  That was when it had clicked. He had determined that imagining natural laws like the four elements, fundamental forces or karma was the most effective, but he had neglected to think any further. Each time he visualized this principle, he was going through a middleman, instead of addressing the boss itself. This world was governed by the Tao, and the Tao contained all of the laws.

  Since he was creating the ultimate storage device, it had to be capable of holding anything, and what could be more emblematic of that than containing the supreme Avenue itself?

  Since the Tao was a higher tier concept than the four elements, directly engulfing it should provide a great improvement for only a minimum amount of effort. The idea was to use the already established visualisation as a base, and to spend a few days building upon it in order to implement his idea.

  He wasn't clear on how to represent the Tao, so he kept it as abstract as possible, concentrating on the concept of an ultimate and sacred truth holding up the very foundations of the world, without delving into the details of its appearance or function.

  It was just an incorporeal stream of golden light, a magnificent aurora that circled the world. It slowly revolved in an ethereal manner, taking the vague shape of an eastern dragon, protecting the world. It grew and shrunk, deforming and reforming on a whim, radiating a warm but powerful light, shining its majesty down on the universe.

  Sometimes it flew down and passed through the different planets, causing flowers to bloom everywhere, heralding unprecedented prosperity. Swimming through time and space without a care in the world, it changed or maintained fundamental principles as it liked, as the supreme ruler of the universe.

  Not only did it rule over everything, it was everything. Everything came from it, and everything would eventually return to it. It was the truth that could never be denied, a constant that would never be changed, a light that would never dim.

  And yet even this consummate entity was being devoured by the black hole.

  Each time it swam too close to the singularity, a few strands of its luminous form would be pulled in, slowly plundering its origin.

  The golden dragon was immortal and immutable, and nothing in the world was a threat to it. It wasn’t being harmed in any way, but it was slowly being sealed up, contained in a rune capable of storing anything.

  He found it very soothing to describe this miraculous existence, and empathised deeply with this undying light, a creature with an infinite lifespan that was slowly being bogged down and tainted by an encroaching darkness.

  He found it slightly therapeutic, but far from enough to make him enjoy it, and he breathed a sigh of release when he completed his vision.

  It was with apprehension that he picked up his pen to etch out the rune, imagining his thoughts being forced into the pen and used as ink. After putting in so much time and effort, he was going to finally find out once and for all if the results were worth it.