Gottenfall, the most western of locations on the globe. Bordered by a belt of badlands to the west, to the south were the Himmelboren isles. Northeast was the walls to Igniain, but that was far out of focus. Mandaly was the most eastern location within the borders, but what about its parallel? On the far opposite shores on the edge of the badlands belt was a land where the soil was crude.
Dirt was like stone and water resembled dust. Clouds of black clotted the sun from ever reaching the silver blades of grass. Not a soul called these stones home, no beast foolish enough to live amongst withered roots. That was the cost of ingenuity. The badlands was adjusted to dark environments as many other nations were...but this was different. The reason this land was barren went beyond scientific reason. Something did take the blame for it though. What hovered below the clouds. Skylandria, the solider paradise.
It is known that no soldier was truly ready unless they go through Skylandria's training. One hundred square miles of pure hell held in the heavens by a giant bowl. Stabilized by magnets and kept moving through billions of volts generated every minute just to power the central thruster which supported the city. Under the giant unearthed rock was a metallic bowl with over a hundred boosters to keep it secured, three rings locked in place by magnetism provided power to the giant disc. Scales like these were usually impossible to achieve. The public only knew the concept, but the Dyson patent remained with sealed lips. But what was the cost of keeping that giant stone floating?
Far more than just drams. But in terms of drams, their military career was just how they earned finance. Army, Naval fleets, Pilots to even PD academy and security training. Skylandria was the only city designated to exercise in these areas. Government funds and other investors poured millions into the civilization just to keep their people protected….though in the latter days, some confidence issues arose. But the giant military base never truly worried, since their service in the Contemporary wars Rote would not let them fall. Not like they could, right?
The twenty-four-hour active military camp with contingencies for any attack would never fall? They stood through the invasions of the dwarfs. The attacks of daimons. When the land was torn and many sank the badlands and its old inhabitants didn't lose a wink of sleep. But...that's not where Zenith had eyes on.
Sitri crawled along the ground with a camouflaged back to the sky. He was slow. Paranoid over the thought of sensors in the area that detected movement. Because where he inched to was arguably the most restricted location next to the Astarama palaces. Skylandria maximum prison. Directly below the city that was hundreds of meters above was the eternally dark complex. Sunlight was a myth. Rays came solely from the giant moving spotlights and the flames of Skylandria's engines. Dark steel walls with micro barbs warped around the compound, steel bars blocked any window.
Soldiers stood and flew and crossed airspace along the walls with others having eyes on prisoners. Walls bolstered in turrets and manned by guards. Snipers sought out any threats through their scopes; if any were like the Veles then he couldn't approximate the population. Like most compounds, Skylandria maximum was split into an upper and underground compound. Schematics of the prison were forbidden. No person who ever attempted to record the under level was never seen again, "Well here we are," Sitri studied the location for years beforehand. He stood up. Five miles directly away from the prison. Winds didn't blow. Water didn't fall. White and black were the only shades these lands knew. "Certainly lives up to the name of worst prison."
Sitri was antsy to the area, standing on the ends o his toes. Bacteria thrived in the lands where life could not, "Now…how do I get in there," his finger aimed towards the city right underneath the sky. On first appearances, there were two routes one could enter. All of the civilians in Skylandria didn't have the time to operate treatment plants, because of that a giant kosmik sewage pipe ran from the body into the prison. The unit shook at the thought of putting his hands on such filth. Meaning that he had only one more escape route.
A loud, dangerous path. Flashy. Fitting of his former title. For now, his omnidirectional gaze settled on that shuttle.