Hermapolis: The City under Gray Skies
The skies are an endless maze of gray. Heavy, foreboding. It's somber monotony casted it's mundane color thoughout the streets of Hermapolis, so shadowed in gray that it's people have objected the outside; accepting the indoors as their haven.
So foreboding, great, and powerful. The city's monolith stands; observing the streets and people. So towering that it remains the only building that touched the clouds. So brutally gray, yet so beautifully honest. Inside, the Red Circle, creeps within. The only government governing Hermapolis. So absolute and dominating, yet so mysterious and ghostly.
"Each street is controlled by the Circle, for the Circle. Each man works for the Circle, from the Circle. Yet, so shadowy, they appear so infrequent, so ghastly transparent. That even I doubt the Circle's existance."
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A dystopian novel.