ragnarök awaits

The tension is palpable, thick in the air between them. Erik wasn't letting the old man continue alone, and it's... well, it's becoming clearer that there was no rhyme or reason to the way he was acting. Lashing out, running. Since when did the hulking creature run like this, like a man possessed. Bristling as Víðarr's words drip venom, he's left to run in his father's wake.

North. Far north. So far north that his bones are aching, chest burning, the metallic tang in his throat rising back up. It's all too familiar. Erik wouldn't pay any of the bodily signs heed as they chase, push and pull. From what he can tell, they're in western Auster by the time his father's gait slows to a jog. Not far from the barren hills, on the other side of the dunes.

From the wasteland, something strange, something horrible opens up. A yawning maw cracking the earth, stone floor spreading as far as they eye can see. Within it? Were those... trees? Trees with no branches, reaching toward the sky. Yearning for something. Erik is speechless, watching with wide eyes. Like nothing he'd ever seen before. A horror movie unfolding before his eyes.

"Erik"