No matter if it's been eight millennia, no matter if the roads are full of cracks, no matter if the wild grasses have once again emerged from these fissures... there's still too little food here compared to the wilderness, right?
With such regret, Malin walked down the street. After the massive buildings collapsed, the blockade made from tanks, armored vehicles, and various steel structures from the time before the Great Ruin no longer contained anything. Only when Malin opened the top hatch of a tank could he still make out remnants of corpses.
While Mana went to collect dog tags, Malin sat on the barrel of the Chariot. The silent city, the azure sky, in the distance occasionally a Wraith floated by, instinctively fearing the sunlight. Wraiths with remnant consciousness, like that mother from earlier, were extremely rare.
Malin wasn't keen on sending them off—this city is so vast, he feared he wouldn't solve the issues of even one district in a decade.
