Damn it, where the hell am I? At this moment, Xiao Jie could only think of this one sentence in his mind.
Looking around, there was nothing but a dead silence.
The land was a withered yellow, devoid of any vegetation, not even a blade of grass—withered yellow, nothing but withered yellow.
The broken ruins stretched endlessly; weathered so thoroughly that it was impossible to discern what the original structures might have been—now they were just remnants nearly annihilated by time.
This wasteland spread forward endlessly, its extent unknown.
Xiao Jie's gaze slowly shifted upwards to the sky above. The originally bright blue sky had been replaced by dense clouds of black and yellow, with the sunlight being dim—barely casting a few rays through the clouds.
In those strange black clouds, weird red lightning occasionally flickered and vanished, with the clouds hanging so low they seemed to almost touch his head.
