The night sky hung low, and the seemingly endless wind in the wasteland had somehow come to a halt. A peculiar humming urged the slumbering Gawain to abruptly open his eyes.
He saw a stretch of undulating and decaying land extending before him, where strange auroras and starlight both fell upon the earth. The cold, dry air carried a metallic rust-like scent, and although he should have been lying on the bed at Pinnacle Base, he now stood amidst this unfamiliar and vast world.
There was no one around.
Gawain furrowed his brow and quickly surveyed his surroundings, then vaguely realized what was happening—this might be a dream, or some sort of mind projection effect.
The handiwork of the Eternal Sleepers?
