"I was just wandering around, saw this strange structure, and decided to check it out. I didn't know all of you would be here," Adyr lied, eyes narrowing as he studied the ruin.
Up close, its mass surprised him once again.
This architecture… Romanesque, isn't it?
A circular plan; tier upon tier of shallow arcades; short columns marching in rings around the shell. The pale, banded stone had the sober rhythm of Earth's old campaniles—almost a miniature of the Leaning Tower of Pisa in his memory.
Even the slight, unintended tilt echoed that tower's famous tension, a lean born of uncertain footing rather than design.
It was the first time Adyr had found anything in this world that echoed Earth—aside from language—and it pushed his private theories to the front of his mind. A simple resemblance was possible, but this level of architectural similarity felt too precise; it was as if a human hand had built it outright.
