[Location: Sector 0 – The Crimson Ridge]
The view from the top of the ridge was breathtaking.
From here, one could see the sprawling expanse of the crimson jungle, the purple sky, and the distant, ominous mountains.
It was the perfect spot for a picnic.
Damien sat on a flat rock, his silver mask removed and resting on his knee.
He held a crystal glass of red wine vintage 2028, saved from the Royal Cellar before the Revolution.
To his left, Leona sat on the ground. She didn't need a chair; she was a mountain herself.
She was currently tearing into a massive roasted turkey leg she had pulled from her spatial storage, bones crunching loudly in her jaws.
To his right, Lyra perched on a dead tree branch, her spectral grey skin blending into the shadows.
She was cleaning her daggers, her violet eyes scanning the jungle below.
Down in the valley, Class F was screaming.
