Damon had continued moving, now standing on the edge of a floating platform. The further into the Broken Sky Expanse Damon walked, the more erratic the space was.
The floating platforms would hurriedly shift and warp without warning, light is constantly distorted and gravity would be shifted in unexpected ways. He was constantly moving higher and higher, and at this point, he was above the clouds.
Beneath him? Nothing.
Once he ascended above the clouds, all he could see was a pulsing haze where gravity inverted and space folded, where falling meant being crushed, unraveled, or sent adrift into dimensional seams from which even souls couldn't return.
Damon crouched, the violet-threaded crystal from Syllana pulsing faintly in his pouch. It aligned with the faintest veins of stable energy that threaded through the sky like spider silk, mapping a barely-navigable route forward.
He leapt.
