There is a world, silent aside from the sounds of the animals which inhabit it, the crack of a tree falling and the hiss of the rain across land and sea, common now, far more than it was only one hundred years ago.
The group land somewhat roughly on the intersection of an animal path, weaving through a tangle of thorns and ivy. A mouse scuttles into hiding, running and cowering under the brambles, uncertain about the new noise, imagined as a predator in wait. The rain hits them, quickly soaking their hair and clothes through on its endless path towards the ocean, so far from here.
"We should find shelter." Syaoran says, cloak held over his head and Sakura's as she clings to his arm. The two other men nod, blonde raising his hood over his head and the dark-haired man seeming unconcerned about being dropped into a deluge.
They stop as Syaoran turns back to the path, recoiling as they see the skull, sitting partly embedded in the dirt as the bottom of the bushes, undeniably human. It is flecked with mud and bleached white by the sun, eye sockets vacant aside from the shadow of some kind of insect deep inside.
Nobody says that it is probably a bad omen but they certainly think it, looking to each other for a reason to change paths before they begin but not finding one.
"It's probably okay," Syaoran says, "after all it's clearly been here for a long time."
The party are hesitant to move and Mokona watches the skull as they pass carefully, respectfully, by from the safety of Fai's deep pockets.
The path leads into a copse of trees, leaves providing just a little bit more shelter than the open air but not enough for them to stop.
They follow the twining fox paths and Syaoran notes that there is no sign of this being a mechanically focused world, no monuments or roads or towers or even walls which aren't made by plants. He can hear, somewhere in the distance, the slightest hint of water which isn't rain, the hiss of it just about detectable but not enough to navigate by until the skies calm again.
By some miracle they come across what might have once been the entrance to a building. It arches above them, a yawning darkness roofed with knots of ivy and other trailing weeds which climb the walls, following them as they huddle in the doorway, sealed still a fair way back from the rain, enough that they can all stop getting wetter if they stand close together, bodies almost pushed up against the doors.
The doors themselves are dry mostly, damp creeping up the bottom where green paint has long since flecked away and the wood itself has been eaten away at. There's an old lock on it, without key and with no handle.
Kurogane backs away slightly, pushing the children to one side and Fai and Mokona to the other, and then slams his shoulder into the door.
It gives easily, rusted metal flaking apart and wood splintering as with a crash he falls to the ground inside, a strange bristly carpet, damaged by the damp but intact enough to scrape along his hand uncomfortably.
"We should get inside, see if we can make some kind of fire out of these." He says, standing again, swinging one of the doors, near ripped off of its hinges, lightly.
Sakura nods, shivering, and everybody else follows.
Mokona spits a box of matches into Kurogane's hand and the man soon has a roaring fire going, far enough from the entrance that it won't get put out by the rain but close enough that the smoke will be sucked away by the winds that come with it. The ground beneath it is packed, dry, dusty. The group shed as much of their clothes as they can, laying them out over the remains of the doors which Kurogane has piled near the fire to keep dry.
They eat, the weather and the lack of living human presence, making them quiet. The food is warm at least, tins reheated over the fire in a pan that Mokona had also stored for them. That is welcome in the unfamiliarity of this place. They watch the soup boil together, rich and thick, and turn their backs on the inside of the building for now in return for the comfort of being close to other people.
The clouds begin to darken, showing no signs of abating, and a chill grows, settling over them so softly that they barely recognise it coming until Kurogane says that they'll have to stay there for the night.
The fire casts light in a halo. The walls around them are revealed to be smooth, handmade, yellow ochre like the ground beneath them, streaks of something else running through them. Syaoran stands.
"We should have a look around." He says, only realising his reluctance to leave the fire with the flood of relief that comes as Fai stands, stretches, smiles as easily as always, Mokona on his shoulder.
"I'll come with you. Sakura-chan can look after the fire and Kuro-rin can guard in case of vicious animals." He says.
Aside from the muttered complaint by Kurogane at the name he's been gifted with this time there is little discussion.
The princess shivers by the fire and huddles closer, clothes almost dry by now, as Fai quickly dashes outside, tears a branch from a tree and runs back inside before he can get too damp, laughing a little as he bends over the fire and holds the branch inside the flames.
"What the hell was that?" Kurogane asks, raising an eyebrow as the other man squats, perched on the balls of his feet, stick deep inside the campfire.
"Hmm?" Fai hums, "I figured that the wet wood will burn slower. I don't really want to burn my hands unless I have to." He says, smiling into the flames as Mokona squeals, wriggling away to Sakura where they won't be dragged into the rain without warning.
She pats the small creature comfortingly as Fai draws the blackened branch from the fire, the barest flame smouldering at the end.
"Hmm. We might have to be quick." He muses, watching the light flicker from it.
The building continues on strangely, curving sharply in rooms with only one exit, a continuous path which leads first through some kind of kitchen into a living area, glass glinting on the wall though there is no way to see through the overgrowth of plants which have climbed it. It shifts regardless and Syaoran thinks he sees the reflections of light off of hundreds of tiny shells which run from the warm light of the torch.
The kitchen had been fitted to the arch of the walls, a fridge which probably didn't work anymore, a stove, a set of counters, a sink, draws, cupboards, some mugs on the side, what might be a kettle. All very standard if not for the location.
The living area is similar, wall made of this same mixture of earth and something else. There is a table in here, solid wood, and a couch with fabric which has seen a lot of better days. Syaoran goes to try and shift it, to see if there's anything inside of it or if it could be somewhere to sleep, but Fai stops him, torch held out in front of him as he eyes it warily and mutters that there are some things which are best left to Kurogane.
Aside from this there is a fireplace, tucked against the wall which curves outwards, shorter than the one which stretches around the outside.
They continue on, deeper, and the rooms get smaller.
The next is a bedroom, double bed without covers, wooden furniture still intact. There are no windows here, only the light sockets attached to the walls and another odd fireplace, chimney invisibly embedded into the wall itself.
This follows into another bedroom, smaller, the bed in there single but doubled up so that one person can sleep above and the other below. There is a small bookcase here, some boxes no the bottom shelves covered in spiderwebs and dust. The fireplace in here is smaller, set into the wall above the height where a small child could reach in.
Everything goes untouched as they come once again into another room, the smallest and the terminal room. It houses what looks to be some kind of shower and some kind of dry toilet. Beside it is a box half filled with dirt, lid left open.
When the group wakes in the morning the rain has passed and the world around them is damp but beautiful, shining with life.
The sound of the waterfall seems closer after their rest and they continue towards it, hoping to find some sign of civilisation down the river.
Their search brings them nothing aside from the remains of civilisation.
The husks of buildings grow more numerous, covered in plants and the traces of animals.
Some contain clusters of skeletons. Those ones they leave quickly, Syaoran hurrying them out the door before he can start questioning why everyone they are seeing has been long dead and before Sakura can be confronted by their vacant skulls.
This only increases as they begin to head into the remains of a city.
Most of the structures are intact, roads still mostly where they originally were, bridges holding strong, skyscrapers piercing the skies, dusty glass fronts still gleaming in the sun, the gaps looking like burned out pixels on a broken screen from afar.
The chilling thing is the spaces which have been taken out of them.
Spheres of dirt and stone and glass and asphalt and concrete and wood have been erased, some forming craters where this has happened repeatedly, old food packaging and the odd fox scrounging in the bottom of them, scrabbling for cover when they see them.
There are fragments of bone, less accusatory than the skulls, much easier to think of as some part of a bear or wolf or something else which is large and not human.
Wind whistles through the holes in the buildings. It is distinctly inhuman.
They find nothing of value and leave, following the river further, further, walking for most of the day before they come to a flat stretch of sand which meets the sea in the far distance.
The path which leads to it is covered with large fragments of broken glass, specked with unmelted particles and scorched. There is metal, twisted and worn by water, remains of strange spiky looking fish, more bones, long thick grass which only grows next to the ocean.
A beetle skitters, noticing them, spreading wings almost as big as their heads as it buzzes away.
Syaoran looks into the far distance, the thin line of light where the sea and the sky join.
Everyone stands with his, sun bright and sand shining with damp, the wind sowing it into their hair as it whips up for a moment, slows again.
"Mokona-san, can you sense anything in this world?" Syaoran asks, feeling the pressure of this quiet world press in.
The small creature takes half a minute to think, to reach out with their senses, and then shakes their head.
"No, Mokona-chan can't sense anything at all." They whine, nuzzling closer into Sakura who holds them tightly.
"It will be okay." She tells them, scratching their head as she shields them from the sand blowing about them.
The boy frowns, disappointed by the lack of feather, but feeling a relief spill through him.
"Then we can go?" He asks.
The small creature says yes.