When the intense, tearing vertigo from the Subspace jump finally subsided, Qin Feng and his three companions felt their powered boots touch solid ground once more.
However, what greeted them was not a scene befitting any civilized world.
All around them was a deathly still and twisted jungle.
The trees were bizarre in the extreme. Their trunks didn't grow upward but twisted and coiled in every direction like tortured prisoners, contorted in agony.
The bark was an ominous, deep purple that resembled veins, and it was covered in eerie patterns that looked like silently screaming human faces.
The air was filled with a bizarre fragrance, so cloyingly sweet it was nauseating—like countless spices mixed with rotting flesh.
The sky was a dim, velvety crimson. There was no sun and no moon, only a few massive, unknown celestial bodies that emanated a baleful light, gazing down dispassionately upon the depraved land.
