Horizon squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact. The fall was going to hurt — he just hoped it wouldn't be fatal.
The thought of smashing into the ground sent a surge of panic through him, but there was nothing he could do but wait for the inevitable.
Just as his face was about to collide with the unforgiving earth, an unseen force caught him mid-air, suspending him for a moment before gently lowering him to the ground. His body met the dirt with a soft thud, leaving him face-first in the dust.
"Whew," Horizon muttered as he stood up, swiping away the imaginary sweat from his brow. Looks like this world wasn't going to kill him just yet.
He took in his surroundings, eyes wide with awe and unease. Before him stretched a broken, desolate land, forever shrouded in the eerie glow of twilight.
This land had given way to a barren expanse of jagged crags and endless plateaus, extending as far as the eye could see. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the only signs of life were the occasional scurrying of crusher beetles and other scavengers, feasting on the remnants of the dead.
The ground was littered with bones — some ancient, others disturbingly fresh.
Scattered across the landscape were strange, ceremonial sites, where bones had been arranged into grotesque effigies of dragons and other dragonkin. The skeletal structures loomed like grim sentinels, their hollow eyes seeming to follow Horizon's every move.
Horizon shuddered. This was no ordinary land; it was a graveyard, a place where the dead outnumbered the living, and where the very earth seemed to whisper of long-forgotten horrors.
Horizon blinked, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. From the shadows, a skeletal figure slithered forward. It resembled the twisted remains of a dragonkin, but without legs, its body supported by a bent spine that arched unnaturally to hold up an oversized skull.
The creature's thin, sinewy arms were disproportionately long, ending in clawed hands that gripped a dull, brutal-looking spear.
Its forehead bore a glowing rune, pulsating with an eerie light — the likely source of its unnatural power. The skin, stretched tight over its bones, had a dry, mummified appearance, revealing a broad, thick-boned rib cage beneath. Every movement was accompanied by the unsettling creak of dried sinew and bone.
The spear it wielded had a broad, wickedly sharp blade, and a shortened shaft, making it a versatile weapon. The creature could hurl it as a javelin or use it as a short sword to stab and slash. These monstrosities were infamous for their mindless brutality, mercilessly tearing apart their foes if given the chance.
Horizon felt a chill crawl down his spine. These weren't just mindless beasts — they were cruel, relentless killers, driven by an ancient, malevolent force. He gripped his sword tighter, knowing that if he hesitated, these creatures would show no mercy.
"What . . . what kind of creature is that?" Horizon muttered, his voice trembling despite himself.
Before he could process what he was seeing, another one emerged from the darkness, then another, until Horizon realized he was surrounded by these skeletal deformed baby dragons.
The sight was both terrifying and surreal, and for a moment, his heart raced as he grasped the reality of the situation.
Looks like he had no choice but to fight.