Steam Canyon
With a map in hand and purpose in his heart, Dundee left the bustling Greystone at dawn, when the sky was still tinted with cool shades of steel. His mechanical steed — soot-covered but reliable — made steady, rhythmic sounds with every step, and the saddle creaked softly, as if remembering past rides into the unknown.
Behind him were the horns of airships and the whispers of street vendors. Ahead — desolate expanses and forgotten trails pulling him further from civilization. Dusty whirlwinds danced on the horizon, hiding rusted fragments of the past among the rocks.
On the way, he didn’t encounter a single soul. Only now and then came a distant grinding from a high cliff — as if the Stean Canyon itself was shifting long-forgotten mechanisms deep within.
By nightfall, he finally arrived at the fork — the very place mentioned in the letter. Before him lay three paths, each leading into the unknown.
⚙️ 1. The left — littered with broken machinery and rusted pipes.
⚙️ 2. The middle — winding, but passable, as if laid down by those who’d made it here before.
⚙️ 3. The right — nearly invisible in the sand, hidden in the shadow of the cliffs.
Only one will lead to the truth. The others — to oblivion.
🧭 What will Dundee choose? Take a step — help him get closer to the truth👇
