In the distance, the sun began to slip beneath the horizon, casting an orange hue across the sky, still heavy with the dust and smoke of a broken civilization. Amidst the wreckage of a world torn apart by catastrophe, life in whatever form pressed on.
Zark stood motionless atop a hill that was once the ruins of a small settlement. Now, the place had changed. Hundreds of zombies were working in organized, efficient silence, shaping a massive structure from stone, metal, and debris. Giant pillars slowly rose, Gothic-style window arches began to take shape, and crude carvings started to adorn the walls completely out of place in the modern era.
A castle.
Not a military base, nor a bunker, and certainly not a logistics camp. A castle.
This old-world structure looked absurd in a land of burnt cars, fallen satellites, and dangling power lines. But Zark didn't care. The old world was dead. And for his Queen for Sylvia the new world deserved a new symbol.
