A GOLDEN SUN shines brightly over the City of Atlanta, warming the cold weather to a fairly normal temperature. The pedestrians trudge across the pavements, spick-and-span, paying no mind to the Sun blessing their land and warming their bodies as their eyes are glued to their phone screens. The Sun shines on them anyway.
Thirteen kilometers from the bustling of this nature-phobic kind, rests a silvery Mansion, overlayed with tones of cream. A blue Tesla balances just outside the heavy Brownwood doors, and a circular fountain bearing the statue of a 'Nereid' colors the air with whitish sprays. Shapen swirls and turns of elegant horticulture line the entire driveway and a few palms can even be seen, their curved stalks bringing forth an exotic atmosphere. A wide spread of green surrounds the fringes of the mansion, fanning out to an impressive display of acres of thriving green. A cold wind blows by, whispering across from a crystal lake to the far north of the Mansion.
