The air here had no weight, no dust, and no sorrow.
Lin Ke stepped past the boundary markers of the Primordial Bus. His boots settled onto a floor of pure, see-through crystal-clear glass that stretched to infinity in every direction. When he breathed in, there was no sulfur, no ozone, and no smoke—only the crisp, clean chill of total zero-friction space. The contrast against the choking carbon ash of the lower smelting wards was so stark that his lung passages ached with sudden clarity.
Behind him, eighty thousand soldiers of the allied vanguard stumbled into the expanse, their armored boots clanking softly on the crystal-clear floor. The heavy iron plate of their armor was scorched black from weeks of relentless siege. Their faces were caked in soot and dried blood.
For the first time in their lives, they saw reality without sky illusions, sect propaganda, or royal filters.
It wasn’t a mystical mountain peak or a golden court surrounded by dancing cranes.
It was an endless, breathtaking lattice of crystal-clear quantum arrays, suspended in a boundless indigo void. Trillions of glowing sight traces—each carrying the timed together heartbeat of a mortal realm, a solar system, or a stellar nursery—hummed with the quiet, easy perfection of a well-kept engine.
