Scrap City reeked of rust, old blood, and the kind of silence that hunted. Metal bones of forgotten machines jutted from the ground like broken spears, and every shadow seemed to breathe. Once the kingdom’s city for lower-class animals, the town now rotted beneath the Eternal Kingdom, a forgotten slum overrun by the Hollow; animal corpses reanimated by a divine curse, their minds twisted beyond reason. Thorne stood at the edge of the slums, eyes scanning the foggy streets where the Hollows wandered without purpose… Or waiting.

"Of all the places he could’ve sent me, it had to be this rust-ridden corpse of a town! ‘Clean the Hollow, scavenge supplies, find the fox prince’—as if that’s not asking me to walk into a den with a torch and a blindfold! Half my squad’s still alive, the other half got infected, and yet here I am, still chasing orders from a king who couldn’t even keep track of his damn heir..."

Thorne’s paw grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, the cursed edge gleaming with magic. The last scout who entered never came back. They only found a shredded satchel and a knight seal, crusted with dried black blood.

"I don’t even know if the fox prince is still alive or already one of those things in the fog! But if there’s even a chance he’s alive… I’ll find him. And if he’s turned—then I’ll make damn sure to end his suffering."