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A young boy with blond hair and a stray hat, brown breeches and no shoes, stands on a rooftop high above the sprawling steampunk fantasy cityscape. The view is dominated by towering clockwork structures, their gears clanking in a rhythmic drone. Smog hangs heavy in the air, obscuring the horizon but reflecting the flickering flames of furnaces below. In the distance, a plume of purple smoke rises from the heart of the city. A lone clockwork automaton guard patrols the rooftops, its cold, metallic eyes gazing towards the boy. Gears, cogs, and rivets lie scattered at the boys feet. A discarded propaganda poster is crumpled underfoot. The cityscape stretches in all directions, a labyrinth of gears, smokestacks, and intricate clockwork contraptions. Beyond the city walls, a desolate wasteland looms in the distance.
