Navigating a dead planet's debris field was a lot like walking through a messy room in the dark. You were absolutely guaranteed to step on something sharp.
Zephyria sailed smoothly through the endless, silent vacuum of space.
The floating city's iridescent, pitch-black Void-shield effortlessly deflected massive, floating chunks of the earth's shattered mantle.
Mountains of frozen magma and continent-sized slabs of bedrock drifted lazily past the artificial sun of their micro-planet, casting long, eerie shadows over the black-stone courtyards.
Lucifer stood on the high balcony of the central keep. He rested his elbows on the stone railing, watching a piece of what used to be the western ocean float by as a massive, glittering cloud of ice crystals.
"I'll admit," Lucifer murmured, taking a sip from a crystal goblet of celestial wine. "The view is an improvement over the ash storm."
