Astraea's POV
The streets around the tattoo shop smelled of smoke and stale liquor, a mix so foul I thought it might cling to my clothes forever. No matter how many times I came here, I highly doubted that my disgust would ever dull. Instead, it would feel even worse.
Eldris was already rotten in so many places, but this part of the kingdom was worse than anything I had ever seen. A pit of waste, of filth. I wondered, not for the first time, how anyone could survive here and prayed my sight would never adapt to such ugliness.
Still, I forced myself to push the revulsion aside. I wasn't here to marvel at the human world's flaws. I was unfortunately here for serious business.
I stepped up to the door of the tattoo shop and pressed against it. Unlike yesterday, it opened easily, with no resistance at all.
That should've been my first warning.
