In the next breath, the violent spatial turbulence slowly settled.
Everyone landed on solid footing, their boots steady beneath them, and the world around them had become the vast, barren expanse of the Epean Wastes. What hit them first was a rolling wave of heat, followed by the sharp, choking stink of sulfur.
A dry, scorching gale shrieked past them. It swept up countless flecks of fine crimson sand, and the grit struck their robes with a constant rasping hiss. As far as the eye could reach, the world stretched bleak and empty. Not a blade of grass grew there. Cracked blackened earth and burning volcanic stone covered the ground, leaving only dead silence and not the slightest sign of life.
At the far end of the horizon, a colossal volcano towered up from the land. Its entire body burned a deep red, its rock walls split into savage cracks, layer upon layer of volcanic stone stacked like scars, breathing out destruction and violence.
From the enormous mouth at the summit, thick black smoke kept surging upward, blotting out the sky. The dense smoke coiled overhead and stained the whole sky a dark, sunken red. The weight of it pressed down on everything beneath it. Through countless chasms in the mountain, red-hot molten fire crept in slow streams. It wound down the rock face, dropped to the ground, and burned up into bursts of white smoke.
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