The night is like the shadow of a dying giant, blocking the glow of light and heat from the sky.
The earth receives the coldness and death it deserves.
But the noise of the rats has just begun...
Kranz wrapped his sleeves tightly, like an old ratman who was about to reach the end of his life walking on a street full of filth.
Among the garbage and mud, there are rat-men rolling happily.
Some are still alive, while others have completely integrated into the cold and smelly sludge...
And more, like a big-headed fish that has lost its soul, leaning against the corner or in the gap between the garbage and staring blankly at the sky...
Disposable device interfaces for absorbing the gifts of the god of pleasure are everywhere.
There is no lack of overflowing desire or undisguised malice in the air.
The large chimneys created by the once prosperous industry have now been given another value:
They are slightly cleaned up to provide for the memory of the past among the wealthy groups who follow the god of joy.
Perhaps, in those short intervals when the restless joy temporarily subsides, they also try to obtain the guilt or uneasiness from the depths of the soul?
This may be a kind of salvation - but it is too late...
There were rat men driving chariots, rampaging through the streets, bringing ear-piercing screams and fleeting wails.
Looking at the equipment on its body and the medals on its chest, it is clear that it is an elite warrior who has made brilliant achievements in battle.
But now, wild desires completely dominate the veteran's will.
Until the belated inspection team finally arrived in disheveled clothes, and it had already driven its chariot heavily into the wall.
Heavy tanks are enough to hit any civilian building frontally, but obviously this does not include the protective walls of this once great and majestic city...
So, in the billowing smoke, the explosion took away everything...
Kranz stood in the sewage, quietly looking at this not yet outstanding work.
It believes that the other party still has reservations.
The remaining rationality is like the last nail in the wall of a crumbling old house.
It failed to stop the storm, but it left behind a bare, broken wall.
Ugly and redundant…
A missionary from the Lord of Joy passed by.
It found Kranz standing still and walked forward:
"Sir, you look a little confused."
"Perhaps, I can introduce you to my benefactor, the great Fathers of Joy, the honey brought to the suffering world..."
"It only takes... a little effort..."
Kranz turned his head, and his slightly cloudy eyes were withdrawn from the tailoring that was a daily routine for this city that was already in chaos.
It looked at each other, but it looked like a scholar who had just finished stargazing, looking down at the tiny dust in the universe.
Kranz looked at it and said with regret:
"Wealth is like the plague. It has some value only when it is spread out in the world."
"A satisfied face is the most boring..."
The missionary wanted to say something more, but found that he could no longer open his mouth.
It has lost its face, like a wild cat that has lost its whiskers.
The difference is:
Its face probably won't grow back...
It was at this time that a wild cat happened to pass by.
Kranz looked at the free creature.
It was once expelled and cursed by the creatures of this city, bringing panic and abuse.
But now, it is just the most insignificant part of the chaos and madness sweeping the world...