The first step beyond the cavern's mouth was a shock. The warmth of the underground was gone, replaced by air that was dry and thin, stinging Ash's lungs. It felt like breathing pulverized rock.
The steady light inside the cavern had vanished, swallowed by the dim, endless twilight that covered the Ash Wastes like a fog.
The ground beneath their feet wasn't solid but a fine, grey powder. It shifted with every step, leaving faint footprints that quickly disappeared, erased by the constant, unseen wind.
Jagu led the way, his large form moving like a shadow through the gloom. His golden eyes, glowing even in the darkness, scanned for danger, searching for a safe path through the wasteland.
His powerful frame moved low to the ground, his stone-like skin blending with the jagged, obsidian formations scattered across the landscape. These formations looked like the remains of long-dead trees, twisted and broken, empty of life but eerily threatening.
