The acrid stench of decay choked Alex as they emerged from the flickering gateway. World X-17 was a graveyard, buildings mere husks of their former glory, streets choked with skeletal remnants of those who had succumbed. An unnatural silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the rasping whispers of a distorted melody, an echo of the Tower's harmony warped beyond recognition.
Anya, Alex's fragmented consciousness, flickered with static. "This world… the enemy's influence… it's cannibalistic, yes, but… different. More… desperation than cruelty."
Unlike the compound, there was a chilling tenderness to the decay. Buildings weren't stripped bare, but looted with a sense of urgency. Scraps of fabric and faded drawings peeked from under rubble, a testament to a lost sense of humanity.
