WEBVTT

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The monolith had no name, only a designation

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among the archivists who remembered when the

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sun still reached the lower districts.

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Rising like a jagged fist of raw concrete,

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the tower pierced the low, weeping clouds,

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its sheer face stained dark by decades of

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relentless rain.

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It was a monument to utility and scale,

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a towering stack of thick, geometric blocks

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that defied the gentle decay of the surrounding

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world.

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Kale stood at the base, his neck craned

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back as he peered up into the dusky

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gray light.

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At dusk, the boundaries between the heavy stone

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and the overcast skyline blurred into

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a singular, oppressive wash of charcoal and ash.

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Water dripped in a steady, rhythmic pulse from

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the cantilevered overhangs, echoing off

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the textured facades like the ticking of a

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gargantuan clock.

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He adjusted the collar of his coat against

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the damp chill, feeling the stark, monumental

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atmosphere press heavily against his chest.

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This place did not invite visitors.

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It merely tolerated them, dwarfing human ambition with

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its sheer, uncompromising mass.

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He pressed his hand against the wall.

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The concrete was ice -gold, rough with aggregate

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and scarred by the weather of a thousand

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forgotten

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storms.

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It felt permanent, a fortress built against a

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changing sky.

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Taking a deep breath, Kale pulled open the

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heavy steel -plated door and stepped inside

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the gloom, leaving the fading twilight behind as

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the heavy latch clicked shut.

