The deafening, nuclear roar of the impact slowly died away, leaving behind a heavy, vibrating silence that rattled Erin Volter's teeth.
Kneeling on the damp moss near the bank of the thermoregulating lake, Erin clung desperately to the thick, gnarled root of an ancient obsidian tree. Her knuckles were stark white, her lungs dragging in air that had much less oxygen as compared to earth. Gradually, the violent lurching of the inverted mountain subsided, and the floating island regained its steadiness.
However, the sky above did not return to its tranquil twilight.
The massive, pitch-black clouds that had gathered over the canopy did not disperse. Instead, they billowed higher, growing more distant, colder, and infinitely more suffocating. Chilling arcs of pitch-black lightning snaked through the dark clouds, crackling with an unnatural, abyssal static that made every hair on Erin's arms stand on end.
Erin shivered violently, her green eyes wide with genuine fear.
