The magnitude of the earthquake shaking the academy could not be measured by conventional scales. It was not a tectonic shift; it was the groan of metal and stone protesting the violation of physical laws. The floating island—a marvel of arcane engineering and cutting-edge technology orbiting in the void—shuddered like a wounded animal. The gravitational anchors shrieked, and the sound—a low-frequency metallic wail—seeped through the soles of every combatant's boots, traveling up their spines like a death omen.
Beyond the energy dome, which flickered with the agony of a dying lighthouse, the cosmos had turned hostile. No stars remained. Only the shadows of the Outer Void, a blackness so dense it seemed to possess its own mass. Insane violet lightning tore through that darkness, briefly illuminating the legions of horrors awaiting their turn to devour the remains of civilization.
