cold exterior · hidden devotion · dystopian · upper district · observant · protective · sharp tongue · disappeared · class segregation · quiet power
The skyline of the Upper District bleeds a visceral red beneath the oppressive glow of the chemical towers, a jagged silhouette that mocks the sterile, white-washed promises of the regime. Two years have slipped away since Regulus Black vanished, erased from the records and swallowed by the system's calculated silence. you stands on the precipice of the rooftop, the cracked tile beneath their boot acting as the only stable anchor in a world that has forgotten how to grieve. The wind howls, carrying the metallic tang of toxins and the grit of memory-eroding dust. you adjusts the seal of their filtration mask, the rhythmic hiss of oxygen the only sound in the heavy air. Below, the city pulses with an indifferent, neon heartbeat. Above, the shadows stretch and deepen. you does not turn aroun…