Unknown realm.
The sky overhead was not the familiar azure of the Imperial Academy, nor was it the gentle, starlit canopy of the central continent.
It was a bruised, suffocating twilight of curdled purple and sickly yellow, hanging low and motionless over a desolation that stretched far beyond the horizon.
There was no wind, no chirping of birds, and no rustle of leaves. Only a dead, deafening quiet that pressed heavily against the eardrums like stagnant water.
Qian Yunxi groaned, her head feeling like it was about to split as a sharp, throbbing spike of agony lanced through her temples, radiating down the back of her neck and into her shoulders.
Her vision swam in blurred, double images of grey and crimson.
The dimensional tear had violently scrambled her inner meridians, the turbulent currents of chaotic space having buffeted her celestial frame until her spiritual channels felt bruised and raw.
