Ethan slowed a half-step, his expression sinking.
He spread his aura outward, then pulled up the system interface and started scanning the surrounding panels.
An invisible sweep expanded fast—ground to sky, outer boundary to the deeper internal structure—layer by layer, ripping the world's data loose and dragging it into view.
The results surfaced almost immediately.
This really was a complete, independent world.
The outer rim had the same kind of spatial dimensional wall you'd see around other small Plane Worlds, but the internal build was astonishingly self-contained—stable, and absurdly vast.
Judging by sheer internal volume, it was even broader than the main world outside.
Ethan watched the data refresh in a constant stream, his brows tightening inch by inch.
Then his gaze snapped to a location so well-hidden it almost didn't register.
On the surface, there was nothing wrong with it. The surrounding terrain was… normal. Forgettable, even.
