They found the ruins on the second day, rising from the jungle like bones breaking through skin.
The white stone was ancient in a way that made the word feel inadequate, weathered smooth by ages of rain and wind but somehow still pristine where the moss hadn't claimed it. Columns rose into the canopy, their surfaces carved with script that Dante recognized but couldn't quite remember learning, and arches framed doorways that led into structures half-swallowed by the encroaching vegetation.
The golden bioluminescence from the surrounding jungle cast everything in warm amber light, and for a moment Dante could almost imagine what this place looked like when it was alive.
