Five days into the Scorchpaths journey, Clayton trudged through ash-dusted ruins, his Shedskin cloaked as a scavenger's rags, hiding his Verdant Lord aura.
His face was filled with curiosity, the same kind that he started this journey with as he etched what was left of humanity in his head.
As an outskirts kid, Clayton never really had the chance to leave Scorchpath Outskirts (Arizona), but he still had the chance to see the public television.
Then, he could remember vividly during news broadcast when news channels go to the field. Then, most if not all of these ruins were once boisterous, and vibrant ecosystems of humanity.
Once, this was all a thriving human ecosystem; perfectly tiled roads, functioning tram hubs, vehicles driving through the interconnected streets and channels, full of life.
But now, it was a hollow representation of the past.
