At the Southern Force Frontline, beneath the vast, obsidian galaxy dusted with twinkling stars, the battlefield lay in ruin, scarred by cracks and craters, strewn with shattered debris, and veiled in a restless wind thick with dust. The once-solid ground now bore the wounds of war, its surface a silent testament to the chaos that had unfolded.
A dense, bone-white fog stretched across the land like a dividing chasm, shifting and curling in slow, deliberate waves, as if a living barrier between two worlds. On one side, the towering primordial beasts had retreated, forming a protective pyramid-like formation around an unseen figure. Their massive silhouettes loomed over the battlefield, unmoving yet radiating an ominous presence. On the other side, nestled within their encampment, the Celestials stood in quiet vigilance, their breath visible in the cold night air as they waited for what was to come.
