Rolling hills and plains ended in sheer cliffs and valleys of fissures, impossible and random due to alien geology no one understood. Geysers spouted here and there, not common but not rare enough to completely let your guard down. A shower of boiling hot liquid and noxious steam would do more than ruin your day. In all, the land looked like an acne-riddled face of chiseled edges. The huge sun was setting along one horizon, burning red, as two moons of varying size crowded into the sky. Daylight still reigned, for now.

A man in green-tan robes stood looking into the underside of a cliff, where the top spilled over dangerously yet didn't fall down. A chunk was carved out of the side. Inside, there was a sort of bunker half-covered by a veil of sheer material. The veil did not even half-cover the exposed portion of the bunker now, as it was rent by gashes all over. Inside, spilling over the tables of maps and crates of goods, were bodies in different states of dismemberment. Blood pooled in the dirt.

The robed man stared inside.