The ash was deep.
Each step sank six inches into the grey powder. It did not compact beneath their weight or offer any support. It simply gave way, swallowing their boots before releasing them again.
Shhh. Shhh. Shhh.
Holden's 10,000x processor cataloged every step. The ash was mostly mineral, made up of calcium, silica, and carbon. It was the remains of organic matter consumed by the Miasma and expelled as waste.
Plants. Animals. People.
Everything had been reduced to the same grey powder.
Holden was walking on corpses.
The air was worse.
The Miasma had stripped every molecule of scent from the atmosphere. The air was sterile in the most literal sense, empty of anything that made it feel alive.
