Gray skies hung heavily over the small town. The blizzard had yet to ease; instead, it grew thicker, turning daylight into nothing more than a dull smear of oppressive gray. In the distance, the looming shadow of a grand temple rose far more magnificent than the branches Sylvia and Noir had already reduced to rubble.
Its golden spire reached high, stained-glass windows glowing faintly from within, while dozens of stone angels stood at the gates as if to watch over any who dared approach.
Before those gates, ranks upon ranks of zombies stood still. Their crimson eyes glowed through the storm, cold breaths escaping their open jaws, some wielded weapons, others relied solely on claws and teeth.
