The sunset bled across the horizon like a wounded canvas, streaking the sky in vivid hues of crimson, tangerine, and molten gold. In another life—another time—it might’ve been beautiful. A moment to stop and breathe. But now, that warmth only served to backlight a nightmare.

Towering silhouettes of Krang mechs lumbered across the skeletal remains of the city, their gleaming exoskeletons glinting like the bones of fallen titans. Their every movement sent tremors through the earth, metallic groans echoing off shattered buildings. Glass crunched beneath their feet. Concrete split like paper beneath their weight. Where once stood skyscrapers and neon lights, only warped steel beams and crumbling ruins remained.

This had once been a metropolis. Alive. Vibrant. Full of laughter, motion, hope.

Now, it was a ghost of its former self—choked in smoke and silence, broken only by distant cries. The moans of the injured, the weeping of the lost, the sharp static of Krang scanners sweeping through the wreckage, always searching. Always hunting.

Ash floated gently through the air like snow, settling on burnt-out cars and collapsed shelters. Fires flickered in the distance, feeding the thick gray haze that clung to everything like grief. Even the wind moved differently now—slow, cautious, as if afraid to disturb the dead.

The survivors—those few who had eluded capture or worse—hid wherever they could. Underground tunnels. Hollowed-out shops. The shadows between buildings that hadn’t yet fallen. Their eyes were tired. Skin smudged with soot and fear. They held each other tightly, not out of comfort, but so they wouldn’t get separated if they had to run again.

And above it all, the sun continued to sink, painting the nightmare in colors far too lovely for what they lit.

There was still a sliver of hope, though—faint and flickering. That one day, the smoke would clear. The city would rise again. And when the sun climbed back into the sky, it would warm a world no longer ruled by fear.