Albrecht stumbled forward as the portal spat him out into the Eleventh Outerlayer. The air was dense, almost suffocating, with a sharp metallic tang that stung his senses. Around him stretched an expansive metallic wasteland, a haunting and desolate tableau. Jagged, rusted spires jutted into the darkened sky, their edges gleaming faintly as they reflected the light of molten streams coursing through the ground like glowing veins of fire. Every breath felt heavier, as if the land itself resented his intrusion.
Above, the sky was an unnatural shade of crimson, streaked with ash-gray clouds that churned ominously. A faint hum reverberated through the air, accompanied by the rhythmic pounding of something massive. The ground beneath his boots quivered with each tremor, warning of the colossal force responsible for it.
