In the heart of a frozen world lies a mega-city long forsaken by its people—an endless expanse of steel and concrete entombed in ice. Towering skyscrapers loom like skeletons against a pale, sunless sky, their shattered windows filled with compacted snow and wind-whistling frost. Entire districts are buried beneath drifts taller than vehicles, smoothing roads and rooftops into indistinguishable white dunes.
Silence rules here—a heavy, ancient stillness broken only by the groan of metal contracting in the cold or the distant echo of collapsing structures succumbing to decades of winter. Street signs poke out of the ice at odd angles, their once-bright colors faded to ghostly pastels. Frozen billboards hang precariously, their messages of a world that no longer exists barely visible beneath thick layers of rime.
Beneath the surface, subway tunnels have become glittering caverns, where icicles hang like crystal teeth from the ceilings and abandoned trains remain frozen mid-journey. Cars sit stranded at intersections, encased in translucent frost, their interiors undisturbed time capsules of the city’s final moments.
At night, the cold deepens into something almost sentient. Auroras ripple faintly above the skyline, casting eerie greens and blues over the dead metropolis. Occasionally, the faint flicker of old emergency lights—powered by failing, forgotten generators—glow through the snow like the last dying heartbeat of a once-living giant.
Despite its desolation, the city feels strangely watchful, as if the winter itself has become its new inhabitant. A frozen titan—vast, majestic, and terrifying—waiting silently for footsteps that may never return.
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