The light stopped burning Raizen's eyes.
Shapes settled.
Color didn't.
Ahead, the land opened into what must once have been a forest. The ground dipped gently, sloping toward something like a shallow basin.
Everything was gray. It wasn't the dead brown you see on normal withered trees.
Not burnt black.
Gray.
He straightened slowly, boots crunching on something that looked like dust but didn't feel like anything at all. It didn't feel like soil. It didn't even cling to his soles properly. Just flaked away.
The nearest tree should have been alive.
Its trunk was thick, its roots sunk deep into the ground, its branches spread wide like any other forest giant.
But the bark had no color. No brown, and what was supposed to be green moss looked like grayscale mush. Just a flat, dull gray, like someone had pulled all the paint out and left the shape behind.
