Han Yu stood frozen, his body trembling as the land beneath him continued to quake.
The world around him was falling apart, and he could do nothing to stop it. The once-stable ground was now riddled with deep rifts, glowing faintly with violet-red light that leaked out from beneath the surface like the veins of a wounded beast.
Every few moments, a fragment of the world would twist in on itself, pulled toward the widening fissures that tore across the horizon. Above him, the sky itself was splitting, lines of pure distortion crawling across the heavens like cracks in glass.
It was no longer merely the illusionary sky of the inner realm, it was something far more terrifying, something that seemed to tear at the boundaries of existence itself.
