The dream of the joy-world was a seed.
And from that seed, a new world grew. It was a world of pure, unadulterated sorrow.
The mountains in this world were made of grief, and the rivers flowed with tears of loss. The trees bore the bitter fruit of regret, and the flowers bloomed with the pale colors of heartbreak.
The beings who lived in this world were not the Children of the Symbol, nor were they the beings of joy. They were beings of pure, unadulterated sorrow, beings who lived only for the pain of existence.
They wandered through the mountains of grief, and they drowned in the rivers of loss. They choked on the bitter fruit of regret, and they wept at the sight of the flowers of heartbreak. They knew no joy, no hope, no peace, no love. They knew only sorrow.
And for a time, it was perfect.
But then, a strange thing began to happen.
The sorrow, which had once been so sharp, so piercing, so full of a terrible, beautiful clarity, began to fade. The grief of the mountains grew dull, and the tears of the rivers grew shallow. The fruit of regret lost its bitterness, and the flowers of heartbreak lost their tragic beauty.
The beings of sorrow, who had never known anything but pain, began to feel a strange, new emotion.
It was a hollowness. An emptiness. A sense that something was missing.
They had everything they could ever want. They had a world of pure, unadulterated sorrow.
But they had no one to share it with.
And so, for the first time, they felt a new desire. A desire that was not for more sorrow, but for something else entirely.
It was the desire for another.
And in that moment, the second world of the new multiverse, the world of pure, unadulterated sorrow, began to dream.
It dreamed of a world of joy.