The conduits ran the walls like veins, their pulse casting a dim flicker of light on their masked faces. She stood apart, waiting for her breath to settle behind the mask. This place reeked of machinery and corruption, a far cry from the wilds that still called to her. The treetop villages felt like another lifetime, a world that might as well have never been.
Lord Garreth’s voice still echoed, cold and measured. "Succeed, and the world is yours. Fail, and you’ll be nothing, like the rest." Men like him made promises that cut, laced with the same poison that filled the air.
City life was a cage for those still fooled by promises. She’d learned long ago what lay beneath the gilded words. But somehow, a small ember of hope still burned low. This ragtag crew she’d fallen in with, scarred and broken in ways she understood too well, they might be worth something. She could trust them, if only just enough to keep moving forward.
Her green eyes narrowed as she adjusted the mask over her face, filtering the air but doing nothing for the fire in her chest. The doors groaned open, revealing the jungle beyond—a nightmare of twisted roots and towering trees clawing at the poison sky.
Everything here shifted, watchful. Without looking back, she stepped into the wild, her mind already scanning for threats. Survival wasn’t a choice; it was instinct, muscle memory. Ahead, the Nether waited, alive with its own terrible pulse.696Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXsMovUgYX2
