The transition from the ruined, dust-choked air of the Blood Moon Fortress to the interior of the Spire was silent, marked only by the sudden, heavy shift in atmospheric pressure.
When Kyle took his first step past the threshold of the golden doors, the sound of the wind sweeping across the High Plateau cut off instantly. It was as if a massive, invisible wall had dropped behind them, sealing away the lower realm, the shattered throne room, and the silent abyss where Lord Cassian's head had fallen.
They stood at the mouth of an avenue so gargantuan it defied standard spatial architecture.
