Hovering before the Hollow Verge, Zhao Tian narrowed his eyes.
The sight before him is terrifying, with a swirling nexus of spatial currents layered like ripples in a pond but twisting in three dimensions as if space itself were peeling open.
The three streams of chaotic energy spiraled into one another, forming a brief "still point" where their conflicting pressures cancelled out, like a fragile eye in a storm of destruction.
This was their exit.
Zhao Tian took a deep breath and his muscles tensed as his bones vibrated from the force of the surrounding spatial friction.
Even breathing in this place felt like pulling air through a broken flute.
Yan Zijin floated beside him, still carrying the unconscious woman.
Her face was pale, her forehead glistening with sweat but despite that, her gaze never wavered.
"Tian," she said softly, "can you really do this?"
He looked at her and smiled "If I can't, we die anyway. All we can do is try."
