A sprawling canopy of decaying vegetation choked the sunlight out of the Sixth Continent. Blackened roots twisted together to form impenetrable barricades along the southern border.
Murky water bubbled with toxic gases, sending plumes of sickly green mist drifting across the treacherous terrain.
Jax lounged on a throne carved from a petrified swamp leviathan deep within the heart of his jungle capital. He tapped his fingers against the bone armrests while staring at a glowing holographic scrying pool in the center of the temple.
Troy and Hunter stood behind him, watching the Vanguard forces gather on the opposite side of the continental boundary.
"Brad lost his dam because he tried to build a static wall," Jax boasted. He pulled up his administrative interface. "You cannot punch a swamp. My entire continent is a living, breathing trap. The environment will dissolve their armor before they even reach the first checkpoint."
