"What happened?!" one of the million cultivators in the sky cried out in alarm, his voice breaking the eerie stillness that hung over the battlefield.
A heavy mist had descended without warning, engulfing the heavens and earth alike.
Even the radiance of their spiritual lights dimmed within it.
No one could see beyond a few feet; it was as if they were trapped inside an endless sea of clouds.
"What is this?!" another shouted, panic rising. "I can't see my comrades!"
They could only make out the vague silhouettes of their own bodies, but nothing else—no enemies, no allies, no horizon.
The air was thick and cold, carrying an unnatural weight that pressed against their chests.
Then, before anyone could regain their composure, a chorus of screams tore through the fog.
"Ahhh—!"
"Stay together! Don't separate—!"
The cries were swallowed by the mist one after another, until only silence remained.
