The Dark Tower -

Around its base, the field of Can'-Ka No Rey was no longer filled with red roses. They had turned white, then translucent, then disappeared entirely. In their place grew teeth. Thousands of them, pushing up through the soil like jagged grave markers.

In the high, thin air of the Borderlands, the sky had turned the color of a bruised plum. The sun was a pale, flickering candle, guttering in a draft that blew from the gaps between universes. Roland knelt by a stream that ran with silver liquid—not water, but the liquefied memories of a city that had never existed. He didn't drink. He knew the price of drinking "Used Time." "He’s coming, Roland," a voice rasped. The Dark Tower

At the top of the Tower, the ringing stopped. A door, carved from the heart of a dying star, creaked open an inch. Around its base, the field of Can'-Ka No

"If the bell rings three times, the doors stay shut forever," Jake whispered. "The cycle doesn't reset. We just... stay in the dark." Thousands of them, pushing up through the soil

Roland Deschain did not stop when the world ended; he simply adjusted his pace.

"The Man in Black?" Roland asked, his voice like grinding stones.