Azure steps beyond the settlement walls, his eyes scanning the barren expanse before him. The golden light of the Heartwood fades behind him, replaced by an oppressive, gray desolation. The air feels colder here, devoid of the comforting hum of prana.
The path ahead is rugged, overgrown with brittle weeds and scattered rocks. Azure walks for several minutes, the silence only broken by the crunch of his boots against the dirt. As he moves forward, the forest comes into view—a tangled graveyard of trees. Their bark is cracked and blackened, branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers.
He frowns, muttering to himself, "So this is what it looks like without prana. Everything's… dead."
