Somewhere on the Soaring Dragon Continent, within the Seven Cloud Convergence World, the land had already been ruined beyond recognition.
A cold wind swept across the wasteland in shrill, broken cries, sounding like a banshee mourning the dead. In the distance, lightning flickered again and again behind thick masses of unstable clouds, each flash briefly illuminating the devastation below before darkness swallowed it once more. Thunder rolled across the heavens in slow, violent waves, while the surrounding energy churned in complete disorder. One moment the air felt heavy with the promise of rain, thick and damp against the skin. The next, a wave of dry heat would rush over the land as if the entire continent were about to ignite.
Nothing here was stable.
Nothing here felt natural.
