Right in a small, dilapidated urban village, completely fenced with tree sized logs of wood, the entire place felt solemn and eerily silent.
The lively chants and vibrant laughter of children were nowhere to be found. The streets were nearly empty, with only a few people wandering about — their eyes vacant and glossy.
The air was musky and chilly, the entire atmosphere wrong in a way that made the skin crawl. Even the sun's brilliance seemed to dim when breaching its borders.
But strangely enough, right before the wooden gates, a long queue of people stood. In contrast to the lifeless inhabitants of the village, these people were noticeably different.
Their sharp, vibrant auras could be felt, and their eyes were filled with vigor, curiosity, and — in some cases — caution.
