In the heart of the realm of primal chaos, Max was little more than a newborn tossed into the maelstrom.
He felt like it took him a day to crawl out of just the ship, as just touching the ground on the realm felt like a massive achievement for him.
Only when he was on the outside did he realise that this plane had illumination, yet there was no obvious source behind it.
He could see the barren terrain without life clearly, the terrain was shining bright as if under daylight yet the sky was dark and without any visible stars.
It was an odd place for sure, one that appeared to have no cycles of day or night.
Disorienting and relentless, the forces of this plane played with him like a child with a new toy, without any trace of mercy.
Every step he took, every law he knew would betray his expectations as he stumbled, fell, flew but was not able to walk.