Beyond the boundaries of physical space, unrestricted by time or causality, there is a plane utterly incomprehensible to mortal minds. It lies on the other side of dreams and nightmares, created without form or structure. It exists far outside imagination; an impossible abstraction made real only by metaphor. It is composed of love and hate, fear and hope, ambition and despair, and yet is an uncaring, emotionless void. It is constantly reborn but has never changed, eternally shifting though static. No natural, preternatural or supernatural sense can see, smell or hear it, except through illusory analogues that drive men insane. It is a place where gods thrive in constant war, fighting over the raw stuff of anti-creation that birthed them.