The scene was the embodiment of destruction. The ground had shattered, caved in, and turned into dust everywhere. The barren plain had gained a massive hole, and Khan stood at its center.
The hole wasn't the end of the destroyed area. Deep cracks stretched from its edges, creating more cavities that destabilized the already brittle ground. A good chunk of the plain appeared on the verge of turning into sand, and Khan was behind that transformation.
The poor state of the plain would shock inexperienced soldiers, but those initiated to alien arts would find the atmosphere far scarier. The air was shaking, threatening to explode on the spot. A deep sense of violence filled it, spreading a suffocating warmth that dispersed Cegnore's slight cold.
Khan had his eyes closed, and two drops of sweat ran down his forehead to fuse with his eyebrows. His back was also wet, and patches of dirt had long since stained his uniform.