The sharp whistle echoed in the city-state, and the steel wheels rubbed against the soft sleepers, driving into the fog with splashing sparks.
The monsters in the fog sang bewitching songs, turning flesh and blood into mud.
In the friction of the gears, the steam erupts like a rising torch,
People are struggling to survive in a desperate world, bending before the running machinery while kowtowing in the face of the unknown mystery.
The patron saint of the city-state died in an unknown place, and a new existence was born from the corpse of the god.
Worship Him? Or, fear Him?
Destiny always comes from people's choices.
*
Lucita was born from the corpse of the God of Justice and Judgment,
He has no love or hatred, does not understand good and evil, and has no emotions or desires.
It is that I am dizzy every day due to the constant noise of prayers from believers of the God of Justice and Judgment.
But, one day,
The Kingdom of God collapsed, and He had to escape from here.
He could only randomly click on a believer's prayer and choose a landing point for Himself.
The believer was dying. After chanting the name of God, he extended his middle finger to the person he was praying to: "God of judgment, I am *yours."
Lucita:?
Ah?
For the first time, he felt the emotion called shock.
Steampunk Wasteland West fantasy novel, no cp, I am too busy to guarantee updates. Writing this article is not very smooth, I am trying to save it... I may start another one.
Purpose: Labor is the most glorious