It was a massive wasteland.
A crimson tint surrounded the atmosphere, interfering with Arthur's eyes. His entire existence seemed to blend with the battlefield, which reflected the color of a certain viscous liquid that covered the ground.
His eyes shone with curiosity as he observed his surroundings. There wasn't a single entity visible for miles upon miles. The horizon was draped in darkness. It was either night, or the world did not have an atmosphere.
'The latter isn't possible.'
The soil was crimson, akin to Kurukshetra. Arthur bent down, allowing the soft dirt to flow through his fingers. Its texture was strikingly similar to sand, and so was its consistency. 'This is a weird world.'
It was like crimson soil was all that existed in the entire world. There weren't any mountains, hills, craters, water, or greenery. However, Arthur was quick to spot four shadows in the far distance.
