It was the sands that first rose. The sandstorm, birthed by violent winds, plunged into unsettling calm.
Then, bare moments after the wall was struck, the storm surged again—but this time, it was something twisted and malevolent. The sands churned as if alive, radiating crimson light in their depths while their surface darkened, writhing and convulsing like molecules of existence tearing themselves apart and fusing back together in a single breath.
It was pure, visible embodiment of madness. Sickening to watch as it clawed into the sky and tumbled toward the forest—a bestial sandstorm that towered across the world, piercing the clouds and blackening them.
As the twisted sandstorm surged forward, the wall followed. The madness spread across the vast wall of Luinngard at lightning speed.
Then the wall stood up. Literally.
