All of Malik's skin peeled off.
And then just as fast...
It regrew.
Then peeled off again.
Then it regrew once more.
A cycle that repeated over and over, all in a single second.
Right, if not for his healing factor, he'd have lost his life the moment he landed here.
Even then, his body was struggling, his appearance messing up, as if his brain was failing to remember what shape its container was supposed to be.
The Fourth Gate seemed like the chokepoint.
What stopped most Sultans from advancing their truth.
A wall that brought an end to their Paths and made them lose their way.
The divider between those simply insane and those beyond any comprehensible label.
For there were bodies and skeletons everywhere, scattered throughout the blackened land, both relatively fresh and ancient.
Most expeditions failed here, just around the drop, unable to even take a step forward.
None had any scrolls next to them, courtesy of time and them being long since burned.
All but one...