It was a conglomerate to start with, not a city, not a village, a conglomerate. The hexagonal houses spiralled around a central column of wax and a host of fluids that have been set and moulded into the support of thousands. Each tower was called a gallica, or gall for short. The gall’s were tall, so tall that although each of them tapered to a point, only a slight curve could be seen at best, and the rest disappeared into the haze that hung patiently over Qaenica. There were seven galls in total, about two miles between them, each of them bar one was four miles thick. Ashya, Yuripe, Epheka, Outulier, and intuptic. The last was at the epicentre of the six towering hives, a queen bee with her workers cowering below her, it’s breadth so vast a network of small trams ran inside it. This was where the top dogs lived, worked, and died. The cemetery block alone housed one thousand bodies at half capacity. This was murimhir, big, black, and full to the brim. Surrounding these monolithic conifers that seemed to erupt from an unbroken, bleak landscape, was a wall. This wall had no distinguishable edge, it rose from the cracked ground like a singular wave, it's volcanic gray face stretched outwards and around, up and up and dissapearing into a streaky fog. Behind which the faint outlines of the black fingers could be seen, vaguely pointing the way to civilization. what lay beyond the wall was no-ones business, besides, there was the penalty to worry about; who could forget the message that was left on the wall? Etched in gruesome letters stood the words that echoed in our minds from the moment we were born, to the day that we left our sorry lives. 'the lost cluster is your home, the lost cluster is your life, do not run, do not escape, do not hide' the punishment for not obeying? no-one knew, and who enforced these rules? Me.