As the trio stepped into the ninth floor, they were greeted by a scene that stood in sharp contrast to the one they had just left behind. The relentless gray stretched as far as the eye could see, broken only by the occasional mound or hollow. The sky, a muted hue, seemed to glow with a dim, listless light. It wasn't the brightness of day, nor the darkness of night; it existed in a melancholy in-between.
Johan paused, taking a deep breath that tasted like ashes. The ground underfoot felt neither hard nor soft, but somewhere in the middle, causing his footprints to leave a slight impression. 'It's like we've stepped into a world devoid of life and color,' Johan pondered.
Johan, always observant, squinted as he surveyed the landscape. "It's as if everything here is in a state of suspension," he remarked, "Not fully solid, but not ephemeral either."
Ken kicked at the ground, watching the gray dust puff up before settling back down. "It's so... monotonous," he commented.
