The transition was violent. It wasn't the soft fade of a cinematic transition or the instantaneous flash of a teleport. It was a hard shift in the physics of existence. One moment, they were in the gleaming, obsidian-and-silver sprawl of New Astora; the next, they were standing in a wilderness that felt ancient, untamed, and terrifyingly cold.
The sky was no longer the artificial indigo of the Board's "Peaceful Sunset" algorithm. It was a bruised, heavy grey, thick with clouds that didn't look like rendered objects—they looked like water and ice. The air hit Kaelen's lungs like a physical blow, a sharp, freezing intake that made him cough.
[LOCATION: THE SANDBOX — SECTOR NULL]
[STATUS: SYSTEM-INDEPENDENT]
[WARNING: MANUAL RESOURCE MANAGEMENT REQUIRED]
