The being Walked. It was human, that is, in the way it was also a dragon. And elf. And a lexodon. And a rat. It was all of these at once. It was at no point any of them. It was other things, it was nonexistent. The various things that could be cloths in existing places blew and shifted from an omnipresent wind. The figure stepped, and floated, and remained still, as it shifted the un-universe around it, and moved through the lack of sanity.
Nearly any other creature couldn't survive out here, or in there, or whenwhatever the Blind Eternities was. But this figure was held together by its Spark, a rare trait that anchored it as it walked through the madness of everything and nothing. Those without this Spark were simply swept up in the Eternities, and ceased to exist in any sane sense of the word.
As it Walked, it touched upon worlds that it had never known, realities it cared nothing for. It was headed for one place. It was headed home.
In no time at all, or perhaps it was more like a hundred lifetimes, the being arrived at its destination. A strange rift in the non-space. A place where existing was simply unnatural. A place that fit perfectly where it wasn't. The Walker lifted an arm, or a projection of such, as things such as arms didn't really have any merit in the Eternities, and rippled the surface of the rift. It parted a thin curtain between existence and emptiness, and stepped into Rallin.