TOKYO, JAPAN.

Tokyo rests between a aqua sea and emerald mountains, nestled comfortably beside a thick and ancient forest. Through its walls are crumbling the dark alleys remain, with their bizarre signs and colourful plastics. The paint is long gone, or left in miniature strips, and so the city stands as a dull, cement landmark to see from all around. Trees have found space to grow, pushing through and cracking the tar roads. Tall skyscrapers have had their glass punched out over the centuries, and are tall skeletons in ruling silence. Copper wires hang from most of the apartment buildings like drooping fingers, and plants have taken over wherever they can find soil, sunshine and water. Rusts adorns the docks, clinging like some sort of natural moss. Like a horror movie gigantic trawlers and cruise ships lie on their sides, defeated and left to face the winter storms alone. The equines had rummaged through this place, claiming for their own this city of forgotten technologies. But even when one is within its walls, the silence can become deafening. Even after so many years there aren’t that many animals to populate this space, save for the rats and horses. A fallen tower serves well as an entrance from the thick forest, and even now the city has hope clinging to edges, like so long ago.