The Spire

The rubble has settled, the dust across Skire wafting off into the vast reaches of space. Nothing is the same as it was before, life thrown in countless different directions. In many ways, though, things are still the same. The Spire still stands, a needle facing the sky of Eeridi, pointing to the beyond that once felt so far. Now that beyond is reality. It always was, but now more so. Ofae shines a shimmering blue light over Skire; perhaps the one thing that brings calm in the chaos. As you stare up, something flickers. You squint. It shimmers again, like a mirage... Uto still feels still. People have slowly found their homes again, still afraid to venture out. You've heard that the ichor beasts have been kept at bay, so you venture out. In search of what, you aren't sure. The doors of buildings still hang open as you creep by. In the chaos many took the opportunity to take what they could and run, and now much of it litters the city's twisting corridors. You glance up at Ofae once more. It sits broken, just like Skire, its only light reflected from the long-set sun. But then it shimmers again, an iridescence like a mirror. You are pulled closer, closer to the Spire, the nearest thing towards the shattered moon. You wonder now what befell it...