For 10 days, they journeyed, meaning that eventually they reached a point where Mango had known Lex and Fenrir for as long as it could remember. Normally, Lex would argue that ten days was not a lot of time. But in this instance, he would have to admit otherwise.
Within these ten days, their group had ventured deep into Arch-Heaven, crossing the point where the terrain was simple and recognizable. The ground was no longer made of soil, and grass no longer grew. There were no trees or clouds or mundane things of that nature. No, deep in Arch-Heaven, everything was unique, and made of materials that could be found nowhere else in the universe. Everything was… a physical manifestation of laws themselves.
At that point, everything changed. Travel became a ritual rather than an actual journey. Space was merely a notebook within which the universe wrote with the ink of creation. All things that existed, did so in every single one of their forms.
