In a realm that existed under a sky that felt uncomfortably close, trapped beneath a massive, bloated sun that hovered too low in the heavens were the vampires.
It was a world drowned in absolute, blinding light—the kind of brilliant, radiant glow usually found in fairytales and sacred places. But there was no beauty here. The light was harsh, suffocating, and brutally hot, pouring down in a relentless, scorching glare that baked the barren earth to dust.
Despite the overwhelming brightness, there was no life to be found. No green trees offered shade, no flowers bloomed, and no cool breezes broke the sweltering heat. The land was entirely stripped of soft shadows, leaving only a blinding, sun-bleached desert where even the shadows died in the blaze.
The landscape was a paradox: searingly bright, yet utterly dull, drained of color and painted in muted shades of bone, ash, and slate.
