** Could an undying love blossom in the ruins of a shattered world? **
And so the world of men was lost
and a new one, our world,
was born.
- Morrígan
Goddess of the Battle
of the Túatha Dé Danann -
4th cycle anno Bellum.
The Second World War...
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The sound of falling drops echoed softly through the darkness and was reflected by the uneven walls of the old ruins. Occasionally, a tiny shadow flitted from side to side, and the scratching footsteps of mice and sewer rats, quietly whispering messages to each other, echoed through the gloom. There, they melted into the sound of bare feet on damp stone, moving carefully through the narrow corridors.
Fearful like the four-legged inhabitants of the dark tunnels, the skinny bodies huddled against the damp stone walls. Their clothes were thin and tattered. Barely more than rags that could not hide the dark stains and other traces of violence and told stories of suffering without words. Fingers with splintering nails trembled as they slowly felt their way forward, cringing in horror at every groove in the uneven stones as if they had burned themselves on them. Their eyes twitched nervously through the blackness without penetrating it, causing them to stumble rather than take sure steps. None of them dared to even whisper for fear of giving themselves away.
In addition to the stuffy air surrounding them, a heavy stench rose to their noses. It made them gasp, and their breathing became shallow and heavy. Feces and sewage washed around their bare feet and formed the source of the disgusting stench.
The confusing catacombs beneath Lutetia, the former city of humans known as Paris, were anything but a safe passage. Dirty, brackish water, musty stone, urine, and damp—a disgusting mixture—were nothing compared to what could lurk in the darkness. But their desperation drove them onward.
"FIND THEM!"
The beastly roar thundered through the corridors like a drumbeat, making the walls tremble. Booming footsteps rose, rushed through the labyrinth of corridors, and were thrown back from the walls like ricochets in all directions—a mixture of growling, roaring, and hissing penetrated increasingly louder through the previously oppressively quiet soundscape.
Gasping, the fugitives drew their breath sharply into their lungs. Their heads flew back and stared into the dark, tangled corridors they had left behind. Their throats showed their pulses quickening even before their eyes widened in horror and agony.
"Oh no..." moaned one of the humans.
"They're coming," a young woman gasped, her fingers clawing at the ragged clothes. The shreds of what might once have been a pretty dress wrinkled wildly around her dirty fingers, unable to contain the fear that made her heart race.
