The buildings were brittle and hard-edged, unlike their smoother, less bulky cousins in the main city. Ferrin couldn’t even fathom names with which to describe and qualify the architecture he was seeing, the designs were outside of his modernized vocabulary. They we’re ugly by his own personal standards, the gloom of disuse only adding to their lack of appeal. The soaring wall of the dome looked worn and tired behind the sea of green-grey.

     “This place is ugly.” Weasel said, her voic. . .