The solid path of frozen iron slag cracked beneath the heavy, grinding advance of the Void-Galleon. The burning red mist that had choked the sky since they crossed into the threshold, began to spiral inward, forming dense, metallic vortexes around the massive structures ahead. Looming out of the copper clouds was the grand gate of the inner citadel, a colossal barrier of dark, weathered basalt and interlocking iron plates that rose into the higher atmosphere like a cliff face designed to repel a charging continent.
The ship's prow came to a forced rest against the massive stone apron of the gatehouse, the collision sending a deep, vibrant tremor through the timber frames.
[Synchronization: 84.0%]
[Level: 135]
