Under the rolling green clouds.
You might be able to smell the essence of this city—the putrid metallic odor, the scent of decaying earth and broken stones, a sour mix of various smells, and the musky secretion from millions of rats' glands.
The green dome crawls slowly in the high sky like a pouch filled with fluorescent pus, filtering sunlight into a morbid moss color.
The building cluster undulates in exhaust smoke and dust, grim as a malignant tumor. Rusted oil pipelines entwine, forming a skeleton; building debris bonded by some slime creating an exoskeleton.
Each house seems to breathe, with densely packed pores on the walls exhaling warm, moist air. Those are the blood vessels extending from the Underground Kingdom—within the intricate tunnels, transport rats drag glowing fungi with hardened tails, their eyes connecting into a jade-like star river in the darkness.
The chattering sound is squeaky, making one feel restless.
