Quinn's first thought was that the air tasted different.
His second thought was that he wasn't dead—which, considering the last thing he remembered was a literal god exploding in front of him, came as a surprise.
He groaned, turning over onto his back, the dirt soft and strangely warm beneath him. For a long second, he just lay there, blinking at the sky above.
Blue. Not like Earth's blue. Not even like Pandora's endless, storm-torn skies. This blue was crystalline. Sharp. Perfect. And overhead, two moons floated in lazy crescents, silver and pale lavender, casting twin shadows across a landscape that looked… wrong. Like the remains of a broken dream.
Quinn sat up slowly. "Okay… that's new."
All around him, the land stretched in rippling dunes of cracked, colorless stone. Glass shards jutted from the ground like crystal flowers. Some floated in midair, drifting lazily like leaves on water, catching and scattering the strange light.
It was beautiful. It was terrifying.
