The city in The Destiny doesn’t just hold the story… it responds to it. And the deeper you look, the more it starts to feel like it’s watching back.

The city didn’t break. It corrected itself. That should have been a comfort. Instead… it was the first warning.

Decay doesn’t break down the door. It asks for a seat. A dark reflection on sacred things, slow ruin, and the cost of comfort.

I didn’t mean to find it.Not in the shape it was in. It began as an image—a vast, wounded creature. Something holy.Ancient.Alive.