The grinding sound came from seventy leagues to the west.
It wasn’t the sound of thunder or sky magic. It was the horrific, screeching groaning of two earth-shaking landmasses approaching each other at different velocities, their coastal shelves threatening to collide like two iron-clad barges running wild in a narrow canal.
The macro-deadlock between Creation and Entropy was broken. But reality was not out of the woods.
During the forty-eight hours of system freeze, twelve reality shards had drifted out of phase.
Shard 09—carrying four billion living mortals and three vast continents—was drifting back toward the land-wide shelf of the Central Plane at a speed offset of forty-two knots.
If the two landmasses collided without speed exact timing, the moving impact would trigger an eight-hundred-size earthquake, liquefying mortal cities and drowning half the continent beneath tidal waves of molten granite.
“The western shelf is closing fast!” Meng Shan rumbled, his stone-clad bulk bracing against the chamber low roof wall. “Master Lin! If they hit head-on, the blast wave will flatten every mortal dynasty from here to the Great Salt Sea!”
Lin Ke was propped up against the dark rock pillar, his back supported by two heavy wooden wool blankets brought by Elder Wu.
