"This is… origin loss." David muttered to himself. The phrase made a feeling named fear and urgency twine and surge up from the bottom of his heart. "If it can't be stopped in time, this world will wither away completely."
Every step he took set off clouds of dust, yet the storm of ash could not conceal the intense sorrow and decay saturating the land.
A faint breeze swept past, carrying with it drifting, corrosive motes of fine powder, wandering like Ghosts under the play of the light.
Within this tableau of scarred desolation and eerie silence, every detail seemed to be whispering a story of a world on the brink of annihilation, weeping without a sound.
