He finally managed to wake up.
There are corpses roaring in the wild.
The glitz and glamor of the city has faded away and the air of death has spread.
Someone looked up from among the ash-stained corpses and saw the sun, and the blood on his cheeks froze.
Some people lowered their eyes to extinguish the fire of their souls, and bent their bodies, their torn clothes ignorant.
Some people are stuck at the dead end, beating the wall in an attempt to escape.
There are people wandering in the wilderness, groping the earth in search of food.
There are people wearing bright clothes and angry horses, galloping among the human zombies, and their every move is proud.
There are people with tattered clothes and broken legs, crawling under the powerful master, with their spines bent and their knees bent like slaves.
Some people were crying and howling, but there was no running water.
Some people shed tears but don't know the reason for crying.
Some people say that the weather is good today, drug research has made progress, and everything is getting better. Cheer up and don't be like a horse man!
Some people say that the crystal core is about to be used up, the source of daily necessities is gone, and life is getting worse, but there is no one to hire servants.
The corpse that gains the soul continues to have vitality.
No one is equal to the city.
He still couldn't wake up.