The silence that fell upon the underground World Core was not the silence of an empty room.
It was the silence of non-existence.
Demon Monarch Mo Sha let loose the Nether-Void Absolute Frost Domain. Then, the four-mile cave ceased to obey the deepest laws of mortal physics.
A tidal wave of pitch-black diamond frost erupted from the fifty-mile maw above, crashing through the chamber at the speed of thought. It seized the spatiotemporal fabric of the mortal plane by its collar and choked the striking force out of every subatomic particle.
Light ceased to travel.
The glowing motes of earth-heat wave ground to a dead halt, leftover suspended mid-air like faceted needles of solid amber glass, trapped between one shaking and the next.
Sound died where it was born.
The ear-splitting rumble of the earth-shaking plates vanished as if sliced away by a sky razor knife. In its place remained an oppressive thickness. A empty pocket so freezing that even shaking had frozen into crystal-clear stillness.
