The early morning had dawned bright and clear, but by mid-day, storm clouds roiled in from the North, shrouding the world in darkness, sending torrents of rain clashing down upon the ruins of New York City.
There were seven thousand mortals gathered around the Empire State Building. Some were wearing expensive suits while others looked like they'd just rolled out of bed— though in a twisted sort of logic, it was the truth. Sleek fingers of rain combed the ashes from their hair, slipping down their faces and dripping off their chins in staccato beats that were lost in the rumbling of thunder. Sparse blares of lightning illuminated their expressions and cast grotesque shadows under their eyes—fearful, confused, horrified.
For this wasn't the Manhattan they were accustomed to seeing.
There was no city—not any longer. Buildings lay smashed to bits and pieces, and broken glass glinted darkly in the storm's light, distorting the miniature rivers cutting thick furrows into the pavement and streets. Vines, easily as thick as a grown man's leg, curled possessively over cars and people alike, slowly reeling them in until they resembled overgrown plants than humans. Venus flytrap-like maws with spiny, needling teeth lay half-closed and tilted up to the rain, their once bright colors a muted gray.
Claws of fire-twisted glass and half melted rebars jutted out of the pavement and walls, ready to snare the unwary in their grasps. Slick pools of oil seeped from the pores of destroyed cars, diffusing with the water until the rivers had become alight with noxious swirls of colors, swirling paper-thin over the surface.
Boots crunched through the remains of what was once an expensive law firm or bank, but it was hard to tell under the multitude of rushing tides and crashing roars. The storm drains had long overflowed, and Manhattan had become a veritable river.
The Empire State Building, once a proud manifestation of the city's spirit, lay in ruins, just like the rest of them. The lightning rod affixed to the very top of the building was jutting stubbornly out of the ground; more than half was threaded into the pavement, a good two hundred feet of jagged steel.
The sides of the building was scorched, and the pavement around had crumpled like an aluminum can, protruding out in systematic ridges and peaks—reminiscent to that of a mountain. Grooves were scraped into the detritus at certain places, almost like chariot wheels had run across the ground, which was absurd.
The front lobby was blasted open and exposed to the open sky. They could see where a large marble block and what seemed to be a very large cage was set in the center of the polished linoleum floors. The marble could have come from an old fashioned movie set for an execution; it would not have looked out-of-place. A black cloth had been thrown haphazardly around the cage, obscuring it from view. The edges were frayed and it was sagging in certain places, rain coalescing off in cold ropes of water.
The mortals took in the scene before them, confusion spreading like a plague over the crowd. They took comfort in their sheer numbers alone.
"What are we doing here?" one of the mortals whispered to another, who only shrugged helplessly.
"Beats me. We can't get out of here; there's some sort of invisible force that stops us from leaving. I really don't know what's going on anymore."
Soon, more voices began to join in on their conversation, some quiet, some loud, all of their words mixing into a murmuring tide of unfulfilled questions. Only three figures, hidden deep into the heart of the restless crowd, remained silent. The only girl of the three was shaking, caught between anger and fear. Her hand clenched and unclenched around the green-eyed boy's wrist, and judging by his slight wince, she was slowly crushing his bones into powder.
