The approach to the Shard of the End Note felt like flying into a tomb.
As The Echo of Wood drew closer, the vibrant, chaotic colors of the Shard of Sight were sucked away, replaced by a monochrome void. There were no stars here, no swirling mists of Primal Current. There was only a single, jagged spire of obsidian rising from a flat, featureless plain of gray ash.
The ship’s engine, usually a rhythmic thrum of life, began to stutter. It sounded like a clock winding down.
"Everything is... heavy," Vahn whispered. His geometric form had slowed its rotation until he was almost a static statue of light. "The air isn't moving. The atoms themselves are trying to come to a complete stop."
Han stood at the helm, his hands white-knuckled on the wood. He felt a profound sense of weariness, a su
