Nova walked through the apocalyptic landscape with Kaelith secured unconscious on his back, his golden eyes taking in the devastation with something approaching aesthetic appreciation.
The terrain before him defied conventional description. Crystalline formations jutted from the ground at impossible angles, their surfaces reflecting colors from outside the normal visible spectrum. Pools of what had once been volcanic rock now existed in states somewhere between liquid and solid, shifting unpredictably between them. Gravity anomalies floated like invisible bubbles — step into one and your weight multiplied tenfold, or vanished entirely.
Space fractures remained visible as black hairline cracks suspended in mid-air, permanent wounds where dimensional fabric had torn and failed to fully heal. Through the larger fissures, glimpses of absolute void showed through — the nothingness between dimensions made visible.
