Akira drew her fist back and drove it into the cracked wall.
The damaged section gave way, the stone breaking apart and falling in chunks around her boots. She stepped through the gap and out onto the street.
The flickering lamplight was better than the darkness she'd come from. Not by much, but enough.
She walked forward.
The hole had shown her the cracked paving and the broken lamps, but it hadn't shown her everything.
The floor was damp, with a thin film of moisture sitting on the stone that made each step slightly slick beneath her boots.
And along the walls of the buildings on either side, vines had grown. They were dark green and thick in places, their tendrils finding every crack in the stone and working their way in until the growth spread across the walls in uneven patches.
She tried the first door.
It opened onto a room where sections of the interior walls had crumbled inwards, leaving piles of rubble across the floor.
