0
Por hoizonsr
Por hoizonsr
In the still, smoky atmosphere, one can discern a hill, a morbid monument to mankind's desperation. The hill is alive, not with the hum of flora and fauna, but with the feeble writhing of human beings, as naked as the day they were born, some scarcely more clothed. Their cries, their pleas for mercy, echo unheard, bouncing off the hill and dissipating into the smoke-filled sky.
One figure distinguishes himself from the rest, the King of the Hill, his identity obscured by a gas mask. Yet, this king bears no scepter, no sign of his regal status. His only emblem of power is the air he breathes, untainted by the noxious fumes that choke his subjects. A sign by his side whispers a chilling truth: 'beneath the mask, we all suffer.'
On the hill, a once proud symbol of human perfection and beauty stands defaced, the statue of David, forever frozen in his stance of youthful defiance. But now, he bears a graffiti scar: 'alone together.' A paradoxical statement that resonates with the grim spectacle around it.
At the foot of the hill, a body lies motionless, claimed not by the struggle for the hill, but by the gnawing hunger of a rat. A broken cross beside it, a symbol of faith shattered, bears another sign: 'the great deception.'
Above, the clouds churn and roil, as if the very heavens mirror the turmoil below. In the smoky haze, a sign hangs ominously: 'No loyalty among the dying.' Trust has become a luxury no one can afford.
This is no longer a world that fosters dreams or aspirations. It is a place where every breath is a victory, every step a triumph over the ashes of civilization. It is a world where the struggle for survival has become the only game in town, a game with no winners, only survivors.
As the final ten days countdown begins, the world teeters on the brink of collapse, with once bustling cities reduced to eerie ghost towns. Skies darken, as strange phenomena cast a gloomy pall over the land. Desperate survivors scavenge amidst the decaying relics of a bygone era, while the last vestiges of civilization crumble away. Iconic monuments stand, bound and defaced, as harbingers of humanity's impending doom. As hope flickers and fades, the landscape transforms into a desolate wasteland, where trust is a rare commodity and the struggle for survival intensifies.
In this sundered realm, the remnants of humanity face their final days, haunted by the echoes of a lost world. With each passing day, the struggle for survival escalates, until the tenth and final day arrives, sealing the fate of the world forever.
Dirección del contrato0x9eac...2d54
ID del token2
Estándar de tokenERC-721
CadenaEthereum
Última actualizaciónHace 1 año
Ganancias del creador
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛
Propiedad de
barrycollier
visibility
9 visualizaciones- PrecioPrecio en USDCantidadVencimientoDe
- PrecioPrecio en USDCantidadDiferencia de sueloVencimientoDe
keyboard_arrow_down
Evento
Precio
De
Para
Fecha
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛
Propiedad de
barrycollier
0
visibility
9 visualizaciones- PrecioPrecio en USDCantidadVencimientoDe
- PrecioPrecio en USDCantidadDiferencia de sueloVencimientoDe
Por hoizonsr
Por hoizonsr
In the still, smoky atmosphere, one can discern a hill, a morbid monument to mankind's desperation. The hill is alive, not with the hum of flora and fauna, but with the feeble writhing of human beings, as naked as the day they were born, some scarcely more clothed. Their cries, their pleas for mercy, echo unheard, bouncing off the hill and dissipating into the smoke-filled sky.
One figure distinguishes himself from the rest, the King of the Hill, his identity obscured by a gas mask. Yet, this king bears no scepter, no sign of his regal status. His only emblem of power is the air he breathes, untainted by the noxious fumes that choke his subjects. A sign by his side whispers a chilling truth: 'beneath the mask, we all suffer.'
On the hill, a once proud symbol of human perfection and beauty stands defaced, the statue of David, forever frozen in his stance of youthful defiance. But now, he bears a graffiti scar: 'alone together.' A paradoxical statement that resonates with the grim spectacle around it.
At the foot of the hill, a body lies motionless, claimed not by the struggle for the hill, but by the gnawing hunger of a rat. A broken cross beside it, a symbol of faith shattered, bears another sign: 'the great deception.'
Above, the clouds churn and roil, as if the very heavens mirror the turmoil below. In the smoky haze, a sign hangs ominously: 'No loyalty among the dying.' Trust has become a luxury no one can afford.
This is no longer a world that fosters dreams or aspirations. It is a place where every breath is a victory, every step a triumph over the ashes of civilization. It is a world where the struggle for survival has become the only game in town, a game with no winners, only survivors.
As the final ten days countdown begins, the world teeters on the brink of collapse, with once bustling cities reduced to eerie ghost towns. Skies darken, as strange phenomena cast a gloomy pall over the land. Desperate survivors scavenge amidst the decaying relics of a bygone era, while the last vestiges of civilization crumble away. Iconic monuments stand, bound and defaced, as harbingers of humanity's impending doom. As hope flickers and fades, the landscape transforms into a desolate wasteland, where trust is a rare commodity and the struggle for survival intensifies.
In this sundered realm, the remnants of humanity face their final days, haunted by the echoes of a lost world. With each passing day, the struggle for survival escalates, until the tenth and final day arrives, sealing the fate of the world forever.
Dirección del contrato0x9eac...2d54
ID del token2
Estándar de tokenERC-721
CadenaEthereum
Última actualizaciónHace 1 año
Ganancias del creador
keyboard_arrow_down
Evento
Precio
De
Para
Fecha
