A violent fracture in the air detonated above the red desert basin, spitting four distorted shapes out of the void before collapsing with a dry, hollow pop that scattered dry shale across the flats.
THUD.
Han Ping slammed chest-first into the sunbaked clay, his face plowing through three feet of coarse red dust as the kinetic momentum of the spatial tear gave out. Beside him, young Zhang Yue rolled across a cluster of jagged sandstone rocks, clutching his stomach with both arms while his knees drew up tight against his ribs.
Ye Chen hit the earth on two solid boots, his knees flexing to absorb the gravitational backlash without yielding an inch.
He did not stumble, nor did he allow the sudden reassertion of mortal atmospheric weight to disrupt the balance of his lower dantian. With a f
