The Gate of the Feral Gods (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #4)

by Matt Dinniman

Larracos is like a dream. It is a living, breathing poem. A song. One that marks itself indelibly onto your bones the moment you experience it the first time. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s an inverted funnel of museums and galleries and colleges and of color. The NPCs live here. They have purpose and life. For the first time since we have been dragged into this horror, I feel awe and wonder and something other than rage. But it is a tainted and fleeting feeling. This city should not be here. It is too beautiful to be used in such a terrible, senseless way. I still don’t fully understand the fable with the volcano and the centipede at the bottom and what sort of metaphor, if any, it’s supposed to represent, but whoever designed this wonder at the center of the ninth floor was someone who appreciates fine detail and the art of turning the mundane into visual music. It is too beautiful, too real not to be a copy of someplace that truly existed, and it is difficult for my mind to make sense of it. For the first time, I don’t know where the real ends and the nightmare begins, and it has taken my breath away.