The chapter
Among the Ten counted in Sahih Muslim: "three khusuf, a landslide in the East, a landslide in the West, and a landslide in the Peninsula of the Arabs." Khasf is the Qur'an's own verb for the ground withdrawing its permission: the earth does not strike like a quake; it opens and takes.
The Path has met the verb before, and the Codex draws the connection deliberately. It is what ended Qarun, mid-procession, in the fullness of his treasure: "So We caused the earth to swallow him and his home." It is the standing threat the Qur'an poses to every reader's false security: "Do you feel secure that He who is above the sky will not cause the earth to swallow you as it sways?" And it is the fate already written for one end-times army, the force marching against the House, swallowed "first and last" at a plain called al-Bayda (Muslim 2882). The three great landslides of the End are that same verb conjugated at continental scale: East, West, and, the detail that must have stunned the first audience, the Arabian Peninsula itself, the land of the sanctuaries, exempted from nothing except what Allah exempts.
The sources leave the three sites unnamed beyond their compass points, and the Codex refuses to invent coordinates. What the tradition does specify is the moral mechanics, given in the Prophet's ﷺ answer about the swallowed army: among them are the coerced and the mere bystander: "they are swallowed together, then raised on the Day of Resurrection according to their intentions." The khasf sorts nothing on the surface; the sorting happens at the resurrection. Presence in a caravan of wrong is itself a position, and the earth makes no exception for the merely adjacent.
Placed here, seventh through ninth of the Ten, the landslides mark the sequence's turn from address to dismantling: the smoke filled the air, and now the floor itself begins to be withdrawn, in three announcements, on three horizons, as if creation were being struck like a tent, corner by corner. One earthly sign remains: the fire that gathers. After that, the sky takes over entirely at the Trumpet.
For the living reader the tile's question is Qarun's and the army's at once: what are you standing on, and in whose caravan are you standing? The ground's permission is a loan, renewed silently every morning, and among the Ten are three mornings when, in three places, it will not be renewed.