Far away from the burning desert and the frozen inferno of ice lay a realm built entirely from death.
A vast field of bones stretched beneath the golden dome, reaching beyond the horizon. The ground was layered with skeletal remains—human, draconic, monstrous, and things whose shapes no longer had names.
Trees of fused spines jutted upward like petrified forests. Hills were formed from compacted skulls, their hollow eyes staring eternally skyward. Every step across this land produced a dry, grinding sound, as if the world itself protested movement.
At the center of this ossuary stood a titan.
He was immense—corpse-white flesh stretched over a frame that looked less biological and more geological. His muscle fibers were thick and layered like sedimentary stone, reinforced by bone ridges that ran across his shoulders, spine, and limbs.
Four massive arms hung at his sides, each ending in clawed hands capable of anchoring him against any force.
