And still no land . It wasn’t just the area she covered that disquieted her .   Even from those distances, if there was any bit of mana - producing land even a further away, Jasmine’s spark - enhanced senses would have picked it up . She hadn't . There wasn’t a shred of land outside of this sole island for, as her muttering mouth guesstimated, five whole days of unimpeded walking in any direction . “That’s roughly the size of the Mercadian planes,” Jasmine commented out loud as she downed the rest of the coconut milk .   “And I can’t sense any thing beyond that . Oh, sweet Urza, is this sole island all that’s left of Dominaria?   Did our plane take itself with Phyrexia?” Her lower lip quivered a bit at the prospect of being the only person left on the only scratch of land left in her home plane .   Even with the sound of her own voice, she’d be quite lonely, and just being alone in even the most paradisaical of places like this tropical island wouldn’t be good for anyone’s mental health, especially not a planeswalker’s .   Assuming that what she feared was true, that this island and herself was all that survived the Invasion, what would she do?   Should she up and leave for a better plane?   She could do it . After all, she was a planeswalker .