While space and time in the garden of Persephone's Castle remained tightly locked to protect the absolute evolution of Sylvia and her two sisters, a far more brutal and noisy reality was unfolding in another dimension.
Earth. Several kilometers beyond the borders of the magnificent and heavily fortified city of Nocture, the landscape of the mortal world still displayed the torn wounds left by the apocalypse. The sky above that dead city was a dense gray, covered by clouds of dust and ash that seemed unwilling to dissipate. Skyscrapers that had once been symbols of human pride were now nothing more than rusted concrete skeletons wrapped in mutated vines.
Yet it was not that dystopian scenery that made the air feel so heavy and suffocating. It was the sound of hoarse growls, the scraping of millions of feet dragging across shattered asphalt, and the thick stench of rotting flesh so dense it could drive ordinary humans to madness.
