The dream of the fear-world was a seed.
And from that seed, a new world grew. It was a world of pure, unadulterated courage.
The mountains in this world were made of granite, and the rivers flowed with the strong, clear water of conviction. The trees bore the hardy fruit of resilience, and the flowers bloomed with the bright, bold colors of valor.
The beings who lived in this world were beings of pure, unadulterated courage. They were born of the strength that the fear-world had never known, and the hope that the world of righteous conviction had only just begun to understand.
They climbed the granite mountains, and they swam against the current of the strong rivers. They ate the hardy fruit of resilience, and they wore the bright, bold colors of valor as a banner. They knew no fear, no doubt, no despair, no hesitation. They knew only courage.
And for a time, it was perfect.
But then, a strange thing began to happen.
The courage, which had once been so inspiring, so absolute, so full of a powerful, unwavering certainty, began to fade. The mountains became just rocks to be conquered, and the rivers became just currents to be overcome. The fruit of resilience became a tasteless, necessary fuel, and the flowers of valor became a meaningless, garish display.
The beings of courage, who had never known anything but conviction, 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 courage.
But they had nothing to fear.
And so, for the first time, they felt a new desire. A desire that was not for more courage, but for something else entirely.
It was the desire for another.
And in that moment, the sixth world of the new multiverse, the world of pure, unadulterated courage, began to dream.
It dreamed of a world of fear.