The tall and tattered city walls stand tall before my coiled image, surrounding the myriad cathedrals and citadels that in turn embrace the ancient machine-halls of this godforsaken place. Its former inhabitants now clinging to a desperate illusion set by the vile wardens of our kins long forgotten enemy, who once slaved before our feet.
The black glass and metal citadels stand emptied. Expect those that are used for the inhuman tortures and wayfarers. The only sounds that linger in the air are the grinding machines below the surface and the faraway screams from the ppurgatorial torture chambers.
This is our real home.