The North was not white anymore. It was grey.
Elian walked through the ruins of the Old Cities. Skeletons of steel pierced the sky like broken ribs. Concrete slabs lay shattered across the land like fallen continents. But the worst was the glass. And the plastic. The Unrotting Stone. It shimmered in the sun. Bright colors that didn't fade. Blue bags caught in the branches of dead trees. Bottles floating in stagnant ponds. It was a graveyard of things that refused to die.
Elian stopped at the edge of a lake. It was choked. Thick with algae. Green slime covered the surface. Beneath it, the plastic floated. A island of waste.
It suffocates, the water said. Its voice was thick. Sluggish. I cannot breathe.
Elian knelt. He dipped the cane into the water. The ash wood darkened. It absorbed th
