The city glowed with the pulse of neon life, but for Jim Wash, it had never felt more hollow. Once a man of conviction, a man of unwavering faith, he now stood alone at the precipice of a world unrecognizable. The monolithic tower before him loomed like a judgment, its radiant light cutting through the haze of despair and casting a long, dark shadow over the ruins of his beliefs.
He was that shadow.
Clad in black, Jim Wash was no longer the hopeful soul who had walked these streets. He had tried to save them, to lead them away from the path that had led here—a civilization consumed by its own hunger for power, for progress, for perfection. But the city had rejected his warnings, mocked his sermons, and laughed at his calls for humility.
Then came the Ill-Fate, as they called it. A sickness of the soul, spreading faster than any plague. It stripped men of their compassion, left them hollow-eyed and cold, driven only by the lights of their machines. Jim had fought to resist it, but the sickness had taken everything from him. His friends, his congregation, even his voice—now a rasp that could barely rise above a whisper.
The tower was the last monument to their hubris, a beacon of artificial salvation built by those who thought they could outsmart death itself. But Jim knew the truth. Salvation wasn’t found in steel and neon; it was found in the heart. And now, hearts had all but vanished.
He stepped closer, his figure stark against the fiery horizon. The ground beneath him hummed with electric veins, a reminder of the city’s lifeblood—a life he no longer recognized. Jim stood motionless, his silhouette etched against the brilliant light of the tower. It wasn’t defiance that held him still. It wasn’t even hope.
It was the realization that he, too, had become a shadow—a relic of a world that no longer existed.
The tower’s light flared, and the city’s hum grew louder, drowning out his thoughts. Jim Wash took a final step forward, disappearing into the neon glow, his ill-fated journey complete. Somewhere deep within the endless labyrinth of the city, the lights pulsed once more, indifferent to the man who had stood against them.
Illphated