(Salvatore's POV)
The perpetual twilight has brought the once bustling city of London to its knees. It’s a stark contrast to just a few weeks ago, when the streets were full of life and now they are eerily quiet. The pavement is worn from the countless feet that have walked over them through the decades. Each step once held a story of their own. Now they are a part of a singular tale embedded into the bones of the city. The buildings, once bustling with life, have become silent sentinels. The bricks hold the secrets within their sturdy walls. They seem to have absorbed the history of the city, like ancient mentors guarding knowledge only they possess. As I move through the historically intricate streets. The air itself carries the weight of time. It's as though the past is desperately try
