The Shrine was a massive structure that broke over the horizon like a towering beacon in a barren desert.
Since the war, the closer you were to the coast, the more apparent the destruction left behind became. Where before there had been small towns and villages, there was now only ruins.
The longer we drove, the more dilapidated everything became. The landscape outside the windows devolved from rundown homes into the burnt-out shells of old warehouses, and eventually into mile after mile of a world left completely abandoned.
By the time we’d reached the Shrine, it was apparent it was the only thing still in use. Perfect and untouched by a conflict that had devastated the entire region and filled the southern cities with people with no other place to go.
It was nearly two in the morning
