The Graveyard of Ancient Kings was an outside health and safety rule-break of cosmic proportions.
Stretching across fifty square miles of underground valley, the silt was choked with the shattered leftovers of an ancient world.
Huge First Epoch siege engines, three hundred feet tall and cast from cursed void-bronze, lay toppled in the dirt like rusted tractors abandoned in a swamp.
Mountain-sized skeletons of ancient god-beasts lay tangled with the shattered armor of fallen heavenly emperors.
From the rusted battery cores of long-dead titan iron-puppets, a noxious green fluid—packed potion-made sulfuric acid laced with heavy-metal lead salts—seeped into the underground water table. It hissed as it rusted through the bedrock.
Dark, toxic death-foul fog hung over the valley like a stale oil slick, blocking the path to the main mantle locking slot where the southern land-wide keel needed to be permanently seated.
Frank stood on the rim of the valley. He looked down at fifty square miles of mythological slaughter with the narrow-eyed disgust of an EPA investigator surveying an illegal battery disposal pit.
He pulled a pair of heavy-duty leather work gloves onto his hands, cinching the velcro wrist straps with a sharp rip.
