The emerald luminescence of the outer void was beginning to curdle, ripening into a deep, sickly violet that clung to the edges of the ship like grease. The ship moved through this transition zone with a heavy, unhurried grace, its obsidian-silk sails snapping softly against a cosmic gale that had no sound. It was the midnight watch of the celestial transit, the brief window of artificial stillness where the survivors below decks tried to dream of an earth that no longer possessed a sun.
Ren Hanshin stood on the secondary aft deck, isolated from the primary navigation hub. The ambient temperature of the lower cosmos was dropping rapidly as they drew nearer to the magical boundaries, but his vessel remained impervious to the chill.
[Synchronization: 80.0%]
[Level: 130]
