The rays of light were diverted from the land as dark clouds churned above the city, filling its sky with dust and smoke.
Below, the bellowing of machinery engulfed the streets in a shroud of noise that knew no silence.
A cry rose from the lower district, faint yet distinct from the mechanical roar. It echoed briefly before dissolving into the industrial thunder. The men of the city did not react, as though they had heard it countless times before. Some found the sound discomforting and turned their faces away. Others pressed their hands over their ears.
Yet on their faces, shame and guilt remained etched, as if they could not entirely forget the humanity they once possessed.
Along the narrow edges of the city stood arched windows that had once been high above the ground but were now reduced to crooked doorways, half-swallowed by rising streets and layered construction. Through them, people trickled in, fewer than before, yet still drawn by promise or desperation.
