The sandstorm rushed head-on. By now, no one thought this was merely a picture, and indeed, it was not.
Sandstorm was the most accurate description of the objective image, but people's perceptions of the outside world varied to some extent. Especially at the instant when the whirling grains of sand passed through the Magnetic Light Gate formed by a framework of flesh and bone and came into direct contact with the outside world... everything before their eyes became pitted and fragmented.
The wasteland lakeshore, which had only just been colored and was tending toward realism, suddenly became riddled with holes. And this had nothing to do with the impressions people were used to—those holes were scars left behind where the void carrying physical matter had been pierced and annihilated.
The scene was truly difficult to describe and far beyond most people's current experience. By comparison, the fate of the wild donkeys gathered along the shore was far more straightforward.
The spatial anomaly covered the front stretch of the lakeshore. Those unlucky creatures happened to be within that area.
Dozens of robust wild donkeys had countless cavities gouged through their flesh almost without realizing it, and they did not even have time to let out more than a few cries. Some even continued forward in confusion, approaching the water's edge and lowering their heads to drink.
In that process, under the force of profound distortion, their flesh split apart and their bodies collapsed, crashing into the water and splashing up sheets of bloody, filthy spray.
This scene unfolded right before the eyes of the hundred or so wealthy people, experts, and security personnel who had been forced to "board."
The distance was truly close now!
Spraying flesh mixed with the fierce wind and saltwater, becoming a wave of murky dark mist