Because of its proximity to Sector 4, the town was mostly abandoned. Decaying concrete buildings sat empty, their shopfronts boarded up, while a few impoverished, mundane civilians moved hurriedly along the cracked sidewalks, keeping their heads down. Nobody paid attention to the ragged, white-haired woman shuffling past.
As Erin walked through the silent streets, a complex, chaotic storm of thoughts raged within her chest.
She felt a profound, aching sadness for the loss of her child. But beneath that grief, buried deep within the hidden, taboo corners of her mind... she felt a strange, sickening wave of relief.
'What would I have done with him here?' Erin thought bitterly, her hands clenching into tight fists inside her coat pockets.
Rosh was not a human child. He had no face, no eyes, and a body forged from the empty void. Even if the Doom Overseer's prophecy was true—even if the baby would eventually learn to project an illusory human template over himself.
