Over a month later, at the top-tier dock district of White City, a cold sea breeze blew in from afar.
If one were to look down from the apex, the entirety of White City would resemble a towering citadel, stretching straight upwards until its sharply pointed summit submerged itself into the churning ocean.
Angles as sharp as a blade's edge cleaved through the surging tides, piercing shallowly into the sea.
Here, up and down seemed like particularly blurry concepts.
As one of Current Circumstances' few large open border cities, the entire bustling metropolis resembled a mountain. Tier upon tier of buildings piled up, reaching all the way to the very top dock district, and even genuinely submerging into the Endless Sea above.
Should one gaze upwards from this place, they would feel as if they were hanging upside down. One could see the grey-black sea being torn apart by the tower's pinnacle merely inches above their heads, splitting the waters and emitting thunderous roars.
