The faint light of dawn seeped through the holes from the east, enveloping the entire Land of Light in a morning mist, akin to smoke.
The vast starry sky was gradually replaced by a pale, fish-belly white, and the Mist of Strangeness in the bay squirmed back into the deep sea.
At the birth of the Land of Light, the Mist of Strangeness, like all anomalies, dared not step foot here. But as time passed with nothing occurring, it began to encroach once more, spreading from the edges just outside the bay, advancing a few dozen meters each day, as if testing whether a certain unspeakable presence had truly departed.
At this moment, three months later, the Mist of Strangeness has extended from the edge to half of the bay. Even if it maintained this gradual spread, it wouldn't be long before it once again shrouded the coast.
Then, the Land of Light would no longer be pure, and disasters and anomalies would once again pervade this place.
