Northveil no longer possessed a countenance. Its once-crystalline sky, usually a sanctuary of northern blue, was now strangled by a suffocating shroud of soot and pulverized concrete, creating a grim, leaden filter that scorched the lungs of any who dared to breathe. The rhythmic symphony of the distant waves had been violently supplanted by the predatory roar of fires devouring the skeletal remains of timber structures and the erratic, high-pitched static of detonating mana-circuits. In the epicenter of the urban district, the ruins of ancient skyscrapers lay scattered across the boulevards like the bleached, forgotten bones of a fallen titan.
