Approaching the window, Sunny opened the heavy shutters and looked at the desolate landscape of Weave from the height of one of the Nightmare Spell Temple's bell towers.
The sky was veiled in impenetrable darkness. The waters flowing through the canals of the floating city glowed with iridescent radiance, bathing the empty streets in ethereal glow. Usually, the light of the Great River at night was dreamlike and beautiful, but contrasted against the forlorn desolation of Weave, it made for an eerie sight.
It was like a city of ghosts.
He sighed, thinking about the cruel fate that had befallen the followers of Weaver… and the creature that had driven them to extinction.
The Mad Prince.
A dark expression appeared on Sunny's face.
He was reluctant to think about his meeting with the Defiled Titan — or at least some vestige of the abhorrent creature that had found its way into his dreams. It almost felt as though thinking about the abomination would summon it here.
