Slops

In the world of Aera, the sky no longer exists. It vanished centuries ago, taking with it the warmth of the sun and the light of the moon. What remains are floating islands, drifting above an endless chasm, surrounded by a mist that devours everything that falls into it. The world beneath is forgotten—only the inhabitants of the islands survive, clinging to what little they can.

The fall of the sky brought a cataclysm that shattered the world, leaving only fragments of the past. No one truly understands what caused it, but the legends speak of an ancient power, long lost to time. Some say it was a war between gods, others claim it was a mistake made by the people themselves. All that remains are the broken pieces, scattered across the world in the form of mysterious relics, each holding untold power.

The survivors live in the shadow of the sky’s absence, their lives shaped by the struggle to survive in a world that no longer makes sense. And in the midst of it all, a young girl named Lira is about to discover that the past is not as far behind as it seems. The secrets of the sky still linger, and the forces that seek to control it will stop at nothing to claim the power it holds.

The Skyless World

Cael led Lira through a maze of winding tunnels, his steps light and sure despite the oppressive darkness that pressed in around them. His torch barely illuminated the crumbling stone walls, but he seemed to know every twist and turn by heart.

"Stay close," he whispered, his voice bouncing eerily off the damp walls. "There are things down here worse than getting lost."

Lira didn't ask what he meant. She clutched the shard tighter, feeling its faint warmth pulse against her chest. Every sound, every drip of water, seemed amplified, making her nerves fray with each step.

"How much farther?" she finally asked, her voice tense.

"Not far," Cael replied. "There's a place up ahead. Safer than most spots down here. We'll rest there, figure out what to do next."

As they moved deeper, the tunnel split into several narrow paths. Cael paused, frowning. "This wasn't here before," he muttered, studying the new fissures in the walls.

Before Lira could respond, a low growl rumbled through the air.

From the shadows ahead, a pair of glowing eyes emerged. Then another. And another.

Creatures — malformed and twisted, born from the corrupted magic that seeped into the forgotten places of Aera — were stalking them.

"Run!" Cael shouted, grabbing Lira's hand.

They sprinted blindly into one of the side passages, the torchlight jerking wildly. Behind them, the creatures gave chase, snarling and screeching.

Lira stumbled but Cael yanked her forward. "Don't stop!"

The passage narrowed until they burst into a cavernous space filled with ancient, crumbling statues and faded murals along the walls. Strange glyphs glowed faintly as Lira and Cael entered, and for a moment, the creatures hesitated at the threshold, snarling but unwilling to step inside.

Breathing hard, Cael pulled Lira behind a fallen pillar. "This place… it's protected," he panted. "Old magic. They can't come in."

Lira looked around, her heart still racing. The murals depicted a story—one of light, darkness, and a group of heroes carrying shards much like the one she now possessed.

"This isn't just a hiding place," she whispered. "It's a piece of history."

Cael nodded grimly. "And maybe… the answers you're looking for."

Echoes Beneath the City