Country: Aurivelle
City: Auremont
Alvara
The moment we stepped beyond the institute gates, the air itself felt different.
Not cleaner.
Not lighter.
Just… bigger.
The institute was its own world…structured, polished, controlled.
But outside the gates, the city pulsed with movement.
Cars passed.
People hurried along sidewalks.
Music drifted faintly from somewhere in the distance.
Isabella stretched her arms like someone who had just escaped captivity.
“Freedom!” she declared dramatically.
Mila snorted.
“You act like they are keeping us in chains.”
“They were,”
Isabella insisted.
“Creative chains.”
I laughed softly as we walked toward the bus stop across the street.
The city looked exactly like the kind of place people built dreams in.
Tall glass buildings reflecte
