Gray gas wanders through the entire cosmic space, ever-changing. At times, it drifts like silk threads before one's eyes; at other times, it rushes majestically like mighty rivers across planets.
The planet is blood-red, expanding and contracting as if it is breathing.
Between breaths, the gray mist races to the land beneath Zhao Xing's feet.
The land begins to rhythmically pulse and expand.
The checkpoint left by Zuo Qiyu supposedly offers a slim hope of crossing, but it is extremely challenging.
The checkpoint itself is very abstract!
Unsure where to break through, where to exit, and what needs to be accomplished.
It's like a painter creating art when suddenly heaven descends with a bucket of paint that spills across the canvas in chaos.
And you're told it's a masterpiece; if you comprehend it, you'll become a top-tier artist.
"Stay calm, observe carefully."
Zhao Xing repeatedly tells himself.
Yet he calms down without self-suggestion.
