Leather Temple from LEATHER TEMPLE by Carpenter Brut

At the heart of Midwichpolis stood the Temple, Iron Tusk’s tower, rising from the ground like a black blade driven into the city’s core. From its hundreds of floors, it looked down on the City of Light, sanctuary of the Mighty, where life was a parade of obscene luxury. Up there, the nights were never dark; neon and holograms bathed the streets in artificial light, hiding the corruption and excess behind glass facades.
Below, beyond walls that no one could breach, stretched the Midwich Slums a kingdom of poverty, wreckage, and fear. Screens broadcast Tusk’s propaganda without pause, promising order and prosperity. In truth, misery rotted the streets, and repression fell on anyone who dared to oppose him. Where the light was brightest, the shadows were deepest.

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