When the Disaster Fog engulfed everything, the world in the Doll's eyes seemed to be torn apart by dimensions.
The mist flowed between the buildings, sometimes condensing into liquid-like tendrils, at other times dispersing into floating phosphorescent flames. The remaining neon signs burning were refracted in the fog into sevenfold twisted reflections, like countless pairs of narrowed heterochromatic pupils.
The asphalt pavement swelled and cracked, with the steel-reinforced concrete emitting a teeth-grinding groan.
The skyscrapers not far from the Doll and the others had turned into jagged mountains of obsidian.
The surfaces of these rocks were covered with honeycomb-like holes, each hole protruding with vine stalks as thick as a bowl's rim, with dark red veins bulging like subcutaneous blood vessels on the dark green skin.
