Asura walked through the city of Drakkur feeling strange.
He covered his face and body with a mask and robes, not because of shady ideas. He desired to know the current situation and why the city felt so dull and eerie. The moment he left the tower, it felt like another world.
'A newspaper...'
[Fall of the South! WAR IS UPON US!]
The newspaper's date was the 5th of Juna, 3548 ASR. "I've been gone for over a month!?" His voice was low but confused as they entered the tower on the 2nd of Meyna.
"Excuse me!" Asura called out to the shopkeeper, throwing the money for the paper, avoiding the sharp stare of the wrinkled old man, adding extra silver. "May I ask a question, old sir?"
