The transition through the master gateway of the Highland Overlook was unlike any vertical elevation they had experienced so far.
Instead of a blinding flash or a sensation of rapid acceleration, the silver-and-sapphire light engulfed them like cool, weightless water. For several long seconds, the team felt as though they were floating in an endless sea of pure spatial mana. The wild electrical static of the lower ridge, the heavy sulfur of the Pavilion, and the damp cold of the volcanic cliffs completely dissolved, replaced by an absolute, crystal-clear stillness.
Then, with the soft, heavy thud of leather boots hitting solid stone, weight returned to their limbs.
The air that rushed into their lungs was piercingly thin and freezing cold, carrying a sharp, metallic tang that tasted of unrefined silver and crushed glass. High-altitude winds howled across an open expanse, whipping through Kyle's dark coat with a relentless, predatory roar.
