One second, the sky was cloudless, a stretch of clear azure.
The next, a heart-pounding, oppressive feeling descended without warning, blanketing the entire world.
The wind stopped.
In the camp, the bonfire flames stopped dancing, becoming a stiff, eerie cluster of orange-red.
Gordo and Ug, who were wrestling, abruptly froze. They stopped their match in unison.
Every Giant in the camp—whether they were talking, roughhousing, or polishing their weapons—halted what they were doing.
Everyone's gaze, as if by instinct, turned to the northern sky.
Cardona, who had been about to take a step, froze with his foot in midair.
He slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with sheer terror.
In the northern sky, high above the rolling peaks of the Black Stone Mountain Range.
The canopy of the sky, once as pure as a sapphire, was twisting and warping at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Like a piece of glass tossed into a high-temperature Melting Furnace.
Then.
"RRRRIP!"
