The Heaven Gate Fortress stood silent above the scorched plain, its colossal form resting upon the back of the Rock Tortoise. For now, the fortress lingered just five meters above the ground — low enough for Luciel's purpose.
He extended a hand toward the earth, and stone responded like a living thing. A square aperture formed beneath the tower's base, and from it descended a spiral of rock steps, carved as if by the fingers of some patient god.
When the Rock Tortoise walked, the fortress would soar tens of meters above the ground, its shadow swallowing the land below. But when it rested like this, Luciel could almost believe it was a mountain pretending to sleep.
He stepped down the rock ladder, boots crunching softly on grit, and looked back at the creature that carried his city. From here, the Tortoise's shell rose like a craggy peak, veins of quartz catching the dull afternoon light.
