Ian stood on a cliff at the edge of the old capital, a dense, dark purple mist swirling below his feet.
The mist billowed from time to time, emitting a sickening stench. Ordinary vision could not penetrate it for more than a hundred meters.
But Ian was entirely unaffected. His Gravity Perception swept through the depths of the mist.
Countless shattered fragments of Floating Cities, like toys carelessly tossed aside by a giant, hung suspended upside down in the air.
Enormous metal skeletons were twisted and warped, their surfaces covered by a thick fungal blanket. Occasionally, a dim red light flickered from deep within.
A low rumble echoed from the distance. Some of the Floating Cities were still maintaining minimal operations.
"Ian, the contamination here is ten times thicker than it was outside."
Gaga's small head poked out from the shadows. It hated this sticky, humid environment. It felt awful.
"Hn," Ian grunted in response, stepping into the mist.
