Sunrise. Gulls screech and fight over the remnants of a chicken wing. Fighting and eating themselves, they hover over an immense butte of waste.  Streams of hot liquid cut through the mounds, carrying their foul pallor over the landscape. The slime gains its own autonomy and spreads itself, touching everything in the sun and shadows. The thrown out and forgotten pieces of machines, food, and human life pile up posing and posturing themselves as green clean mountains. Only by getting closer does the stench reveal the masked mountains, showcasing the sea of life's leftovers . It is there that DRECKAGE dwells. Searching the wells of the putrid, he looks for collectibles and baubles he can pull from the wastes. He grows rich mining his mountains of trash. From his throne of crust, he sips the last drop of the day's ferment and watches over his kingdom of dust and rot.

 

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