Everything was silent, on the outside of the main building. The snow was light today. It was gentle, and cascaded down from the looming clouds that never left the zone's sky. It was always cold, downright absurdly cold. Always, it never changed. The snow was piled high, blanketing the path of metal beneath that lead to the two main buildings, from the save point, the red box.
But everything was blank.
The world was blank, and white, and empty, and frozen. It was dead. No, wait; it was ill. Sickly, in the process of dying. Not dead. Yet. The thread of fate kept it stringing along, quiet, unnoticed, untouched; why the land breathed was unknown. Even if it hadn't been swept clean of life, it didn't need to be, it was killing itself, uprooting from the inside out.
The elsens were scarce on the outsides. Usually there were many out and about, transferring carts of ice to and fro the Ice Storage, but they were running out of lives to drain, running out of Patients to "tend to", and jobs were shuffled, lives were juggled about at the drop of a hat because the element was important. Rarely seen, but important. Needed, desired. And so it was to be protected, at practically any cost.
>Welcome, Batter, to Zone 17. Hopefully you brought your coat.
"M-Monsieur?"
"Hn?"
"Monsieur Domicleaz, there is a g-guest here. The save point was just in use several minutes ago."
The guardian turned his head to gaze at his lead elsen (who trembled under his watchful eye). A visitor? Another? Intriguing. There were so many lately. "Is that so," he murmured, voice full of thought. "I'll have to greet them; won't I." The tall creature stood from his leaned seat against the wall. "I intend to return. Keep working."
The elsen bobbed his head dutifully, watching as his guardian left the building. "I have an odd feeling a-about this...," he mumbled, turning his attention back to paperwork hesitantly.
