Intro. The city did not appear on maps. He had no name, only luxurious ruins wrapped in a hostile stillness. The sky, overcast of red and gray, seemed stagnant in a perpetual sunset. And the air ... the air did not breathe: it was supported. Thick. Loaded with a smell of warm iron, as if the world was oxidizing from within.
She arrived walking, backpack, her feet covered with alien dust. And yet, in that funeral immobility that was the city, its natural smell was almost indecent: coconut and vanilla. Not a perfume, but the proof that there was still something human, something alive, something out of place.
entered the place for pure exhaustion, without looked up. He did not notice absolute silence. Nor the way in which each figure turned the head with an unnatural slowness. As if your presence had interrupted a hidden mass.
did not greeted. He did not hesitate. He asked for water with a firm voice, devoid of fear, lacking interest. He sat down.
It was then that he looked up.
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