The distortion was nothing more than the manipulation of time and space by an external source. Ripples assaulted several empty areas around the Rings of Neon Rain, swallowing up droplets of iridescent moisture, and eventually tearing through the very fabric of this particular universe. There were no catastrophes, no explosions, no supernatural flares; there was only a gaping hole which edges shimmered with a coruscating glow. A gloved hand soon touched the right edge of the circular gate, seemingly resisting whatever warping influences the distortion could have on its physical and spiritual vessels. Runic writing could be seen on the wristlets the individual pulling himself into this plane sported, coupled with a spotless attire crafted only from the finest silks and adorned solely with materials of the highest quality available to him. 

The [b]Eternal Scholar[/b] saw it fit to study this location, to analyze the phenomena occurring around this otherwise unimportant planet, and to grasp upon the magic the Rings possessed. Feathered robes saw themselves graced by the luminescent rain, adding another layer of light to his silhouette, however, they could not rival the golden glow exhibited by his body. Gariland Varuna, after all, practically radiated aether contaminated with his own particular signature. This aether, this energy, surrounded him at all times without fail, and caused a singular ring comprised of runic writing to orbit his form regardless of any active participation from his part. It was merely a side effect of his magical prowess. The glow given off by his aether and runes was often reflected off of the adornments hanging from his clothes, most notably every single artifact crafted out of blessed gold woven in the silk of his robes and the material of his lower attire. Luckily enough, they allowed him to move unhindered, regardless of his posture.

Once Gariland was fully on the other side of the gate he had created, portals and other forms of spatial distortions being his preferred method of travel, taking into account all the nuances the method possessed, a simple wave of his hand saw the fabric of this universe coming together yet once more as though nothing had happened. One would think the introduction of a foreign element would cause an allergic reaction, but the [b]Master Arithmethician[/b] knew this was not the case. Not a single universe had reacted to his presence negatively thus far, as commonly it was the parasites inhabiting these previously unknown regions which attempted to gain something from approaching Gariland. Parasites such as brigands, bounty hunters, mercenaries without an enemy, and an all-around assortment of unsavory individuals. 

Something in his mind told him things would be different here. His mind told him that there wouldn't be any issues and he'd be able to study the Rings to the best of his ability before departing back to his home between the universes. 

Alas, it was not to be.

For every single scenario of safety his mind presented him, five more sprouted up with counterpoints and feasible arguments to refute the preconception of safety. The one point that served to fully justify his caution? The single ship which alarm could not stop blaring within the confines of its inner regions, within each and every single room, and which housed an individual whose strength could be felt even from a distance by the Golden Prodigy.

Nothing to do but approach the micro-asteroid the ship was currently settled upon in the most effective way Gariland knew, floating over as parsimoniously as he could whilst his mind studied the countless possibilities of the current scenario.