Clyde and Asqa began walking in silence, their boots echoing softly against cracked obsidian slabs and ground.
The sky above remained bruised with swirling violet clouds that still churning wildly after Clyde's battle with Susanoo that time, like a jagged tear hanging perpetually overhead like an unhealed wound.
The air reeked of ozone and salt like storms that had long since died but refused to be forgotten. This domain still remember Susanoo as its master.
They passed beneath a shattered gate, its wood charred and half-split. The remnants of Susanoo's once-majestic domain were scattered and broken.
Around them were the collapsed pagodas now draped in dirt and blackened vines, courtyards where lightning had once danced now lay flooded with brine, and the statue of the god of storm, snapped at the neck, lay half-submerged in a salt pool, staring lifelessly toward the sky.
