In addition to the corruption of the landscape, the physical objects that constitute it are completely warped in character its structures are entirely devoid of any substance, the temporary accretions of some solid, formless substance. It is a vast warp in the fabric of reality - a persistent, shifting mass of data and configurations extending unendingly into an enigma one cannot fathom. The pure extent of The Broken is impractical to describe in writing, as there is simply no frame of reference. Its environment is deafeningly loud, a discordant cacophony of non-sinusoidal tones and howling frequencies without a direct origin. Objects of higher dimensions phase in and out of The Broken's contorted, polychromatic landscape, tearing one apart upon contact, every last bit of data hypothetically processable flowing through them at once. Terrain, and even light itself, falls into distortion. There is no order to the fluctuating patterns of colors and incomprehensible geometric shapes that flicker in and out of The Broken's splintered plane of existence the fabric of its reality appears to be shattered as far as the eye can discern. Refractions of light seem to emanate from everywhere and nowhere, impinging upon the landscape. Its architecture and layout do not follow any logical spatial structure its terrain, as it may be called, is stretched and twisted in shapes that are difficult to grasp. The appearance of The Broken is kaleidoscopic and mottled.
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