Han Ye stood at the edge of the temporary command tent, the Jurang Kepunahan a gaping maw before him, radiating a primordial emptiness that was both familiar and terrifying. The cultivators of the Alliance moved like ants across the chasm's scarred landscape, their faces pale under the bruised sky, setting up intricate spiritual conduits and glowing matrices. He felt their apprehension, a low hum of collective fear, but also a flicker of grim determination. He knew this place. He had made it. Now, he had to unmake its ruin and turn it into salvation.
"The initial energy matrices are stable," Grand Elder Jiang reported, his voice raspy from days of overseeing the arduous work. He looked at Han Ye, his expression a mixture of respect and lingering unease about the chosen site. "But the spir
