The Nation 06

The rusty hinges of The Nation's gate groaned a mournful protest as it swung inward, the sound swallowed by the wind whistling through the jagged edges of the dilapidated walls. Beth's injured arm throbbed in protest, a dull, persistent ache that mirrored the unease churning in her stomach. The wasteland they had just traversed – a desolate expanse of cracked earth, skeletal trees, and the ghosts of forgotten buildings – felt a lifetime away. The Nation, in stark contrast, presented a sembl...