The dream of the anger-world was a seed.
And from that seed, a new world grew. It was a world of pure, unadulterated peace.
The mountains in this world were made of silence, and the rivers flowed with the calm, clear water of serenity. The trees bore the gentle fruit of contentment, and the flowers bloomed with the soft colors of tranquility.
The beings who lived in this world were beings of pure, unadulterated peace. They were born of the harmony that the anger-world had never known, and the acceptance that the bittersweet world had only just begun to understand.
They sat by the silent mountains, and they bathed in the calm rivers. They ate the gentle fruit of contentment, and they meditated on the soft colors of tranquility. They knew no anger, no conflict, no struggle, no desire. They knew only peace.
And for a time, it was perfect.
But then, a strange thing began to happen.
The peace, which had once been so profound, so absolute, so full of a deep, resonant stillness, began to fade. The silence of the mountains became a void, and the calm of the rivers became a stagnation. The fruit of contentment became a bland, tasteless thing, and the flowers of tranquility became a pale, lifeless gray.
The beings of peace, who had never known anything but serenity, 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 peace.
But they had nothing to strive for.
And so, for the first time, they felt a new desire. A desire that was not for more peace, but for something else entirely.
It was the desire for another.
And in that moment, the fourth world of the new multiverse, the world of pure, unadulterated peace, began to dream.
It dreamed of a world of anger.