The edge of the world was a jagged line of white static.
Every few seconds, another inch of the Iron Mountains was "Liquidated," turning from solid granite and black lilies into a featureless, blinding vacuum. The Pack retreated higher, their howls echoing with a primal terror as the familiar scent of the forest was replaced by the smell of ozone and nothingness.
"Elara, hold the 'Root'!" Silas shouted over the roar of the collapsing reality.
Elara was on her knees at the center of the notch, her fingers dug deep into the earth. Her skin was a map of glowing violet veins as she poured every ounce of her **Vespera** essence into the mountain, trying to anchor it against the Void. She couldn't move; she was the only thing keeping the island of reality from floating away.
"I can't... stop
