As he walked, Nero began to notice damage.
Some of the ribs were broken, massive bones snapped like twigs and left to heal at odd angles. Light filtered in through the gaps, along with hanging curtains of moss that swayed in that impossible breeze. Each break was clean, not shattered or splintered, but cut with surgical precision.
Nero stopped beside one of the broken ribs and ran his good hand along the edge of the break. The surface was smooth as glass, the kind of smoothness that only came from something impossibly sharp moving impossibly fast.
"What could do this?" he wondered aloud, his voice small in the enormous space.
Each rib was several times thicker than the largest tree trunk he'd ever seen. The kind of structural support that should have been able to withstand almost anything. And yet something had cut through them like they were made of paper.
