Zak: “Hey. I’m gonna try to boost you up to the wall, okay? Think you can scramble up top and see what you can see?”
Shreya: “Sure. Doesn’t seem like we got any other options at the moment. Just promise you’ll catch me if I fall, okay?”
You nod, though you’re unsure if you’d actually help break her fall if she fell from the very top of the wall. You hope it doesn’t come to that. You boost Shreya up, and she stands on your shoulders before hoisting herself up onto the lowest point of the wall. She climbs slowly but steadily up the incline. Finally, she makes it to the top. You see her straighten, and then hear her gasp.
You are now Shreya.
The city stretches before you, a seemingly endless parade of architectural abnormalities, an infinity of geometries colliding and merging as far as you can see before they merge with the distant fog itself into a gray haze of swirling clouds and mangled angles.
You’ve never seen a city so vast, so immense, so sprawling; as if all the metropolises from all the ages had been shaken together and upended onto the world. A city that could hold millions, hundreds of millions, though it feels like it’s only you and Zak below. The silence is as great as the city itself, with not even the wind to whisper through the streets.
And looming over all of it, another impossibility: a structure that might as well be a city unto itself, floating unaided and apparently upside-down in mid-air, peeking out of the fog, its many turrets and spires jutting downward at the city below like a great palatial sword of Damocles.
The city stretches, and stretches, and stretches before you.