As we made our way deeper into the Iron Fist territory, the oppressive atmosphere grew heavier.
The further we walked, the more modern and industrial the surroundings became.
Towering metal structures loomed over us, belching smoke into the already hazy sky. The people here moved with purpose, their faces set in grim determination.
"This place gives me the creeps," Christian muttered, his eyes darting nervously from side to side.
Anouz nodded in agreement. "It's like everyone's afraid of their own shadow."
I remained silent, observing everything around me.
This version of the Iron Fist territory was far more developed than I had originally envisioned. The mix of medieval poverty and near-modern industry was disturbing, to say the least.
"Hey what's that?"
As we rounded a corner, we came face to face with a massive statue.
It depicted a muscular figure with a clenched fist raised high, its face obscured by a helmet.
