The bruised violet vault of the Crimson Valley sky shattered along three primary fault lines, shedding jagged shards of spatial static that dissolved into white sparks before touching the red scree.
Across the high northern ridge, the dying pocket realm reached the outer limit of its dimensional compression, and the ambient pressure snapped like an overtightened wire. Where the cliffs fell away toward the empty flats, five circular tears formed in rapid succession, their inner rims burning with steady silver resonance as the stabilization runes took hold. Through the translucent veil of the central rift, the familiar white stone balustrades, soaring cedar eaves, and manicured pines of the Ancestral Plaza of the Lunar Edge Sect flickered into view, welcoming the battered expedition back to
