After.

Part 1: Library in the Valley's End

The city itself wasn't identifiable. Even if it was, what was the point? All 'cities' were a clumped collection of decaying, broken buildings. Remnants of what was before.... before whatever. Weirder yet, only a few cities existed around the life-liquid sources, the rest were on the cusp of large deserts. If Umbriel recalled collectly, this one was by the Atlantic Desert. Not like it mattered. Sand is sand.

The black feline was only here to try and find some answers. Whatever this 'city' was, he wasn't around when. To him, 'city' meant "old-ass ruins that almost nobody lives in."

....well, besides the potential gangs and warlords. But so far, silence. Regardless, Umbriel'd delt with attackers before and felt confident in the idea of dealing with attackers again.

Umbriel walked through a valley of impossibly-tall buildings rather briskly, such disrepair made these things look like a jenga tower. A soft breeze found itsway to the valley, making the cat's black tenchcoat flutter softly. His black shirt and thick jeans, alongside hardy boots, made the breeze an irrelevancy. Fur would've stopped the breeze, but according to some people it was as naked and disrespectful as human skin. At least the bushier, blue bit of fur on his head ('hair', as humans called it) kept him warm up there.

Before a bitter train of thought could occur about human customs being forced onto Umbriel, a building to the very end of the valley caught his eye. It looked like... an actual building, though dwarfed by the jenga tower ruins. In giant letters, the roof read 'LIBRARY'.

A library? The feline never'd seen one in person, let alone in decent structural quality. It meant one of two things:

-The previous society REALLY made sure their libraries were strong
or,
-Somebody was living here.

Neither one could be concluded at a glance. Wanting to be safe instead of sorry, Umbriel reached inside the upper-left of his coat, his hand exiting with a revolver which was neatly hidden in a holder beneath his coat and above his shirt. Walking up a notable set of stairs, the feline cautiously stepped through a set of creeking doors and into the first library of his life.

There was only one floor, the gound floor, and an impossibly high cieling. Towering walls were lined up in the main area, built mostly by books with little wooden planks serving as the brick-paste. A single latter sat in one of the rows, leading to the top. Umbriel felt shock and awe, staring at this testament - this immense cache of written fact and culture from his predecessors.

The stunned moment abruptly ended with a voice eminatting from the left corner near the doors.

"Marvelous, isn't it?"

The cat froze for a brief moment, but concluded it probably wasn't an ambush - that person wouldn't've given the element of surprise away if they planned such. Slowly turning around, he saw a face sitting behind a desk. Grey hair, skin faintly lined with wrinkles. A human.

Umbriel was stunned. An older-looking human, living alone in this cache of what once was. He questioned the man.

"So... you live here?"

The old man warmly smiled, nodding.

"....You've read these books, right?"

The old man let out a brief laugh.

"Hahahah.... you betcha. I been about in this building most'a my life, I was a librarian. Might as well move in 'ere."

Umbriel's eyes widened a bit, and he paced up to the desk infront of the man.

"So you... were. Do you know what happened? Whatever caused... what eliminated the society before?"

The old man's eyes closed for a moment in delight behind his glasses, the smile making the wrinkles more noticable.