[The world beyond the doors is most certainly Austria's home, but there's a quality of unfamiliarity. Her City of Music is now unsettling silent, aside from the heels of her boots clacking hesitantly on the cobblestones.
There's small traces of life. She knows her country has not been abandoned, but there's an deniable emptiness she can sense that someone else might not recognize. Her industry has become practically non-existent. Her influence on the world has dwindled to nothing. Her people have grown weak and aged, with no one to inherit her lands or to pass on their culture.
no subject
There's small traces of life. She knows her country has not been abandoned, but there's an deniable emptiness she can sense that someone else might not recognize. Her industry has become practically non-existent. Her influence on the world has dwindled to nothing. Her people have grown weak and aged, with no one to inherit her lands or to pass on their culture.
Her country is dying. A slow, gentle death...
She is dying.]
This... can't be.