[???]
The earth quaked with terrifying ferocity, a cataclysm that sent the world into a state of upheaval. Grimm stood firm, his sabatons rooted against the ruined ashen ground, the tremors reverberating through the soles of his feet. The land convulsed with a force far greater than any of the devastation that had come before it—mountains crumbled as if they were nothing more than brittle stacks of stone, fissures split open, devouring all within reach.
The quake was more than a mere aftershock; it was an event of pure annihilation, a tremor so violent it felt as if the Gods of this realm had cast their wrath upon it.
And yet, for all the destruction it wrought, Grimm did not so much as flinch.
