The first thing they did was return to the heart of the city—where the city hall stood.
It wasn't until they reached the fountain where the rift to illusionary Haven had torn open that Northern truly grasped the scale of the destruction inflicted upon the trade city of Lithia.
What had once been a city of proud, lonesome buildings—erected with handsome craftsmanship—had been reduced to a wasteland. A battlefield of titans. A scar carved into the land by war.
Buildings lay in crumbled heaps, reduced to rubble and ruin. Craters pockmarked the ground like impact wounds from fallen stars. The devastation was complete, and the blame lay largely between the battle of Nebulous Lord and the Abysmal Belial.
The sheer scope of their clash stirred a question in Northern's mind—one that settled strangely at the edge of his thoughts.
'Are Abysmal levels stronger than Apex levels?'
