The Golden Maze
The rain against the glass of the observation deck is not water, but a thin, persistent mist of gray ash that has settled over the city of New Avalon, blurring the skyline into a watercolor of forgotten geometries. You stand at the edge of the glass, your reflection superimposed over the sprawling, silent metropolis below, your face a mask of bone and shadow, your eyes reflecting the dim, amber...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima