The changes in time are not evident within the Wandering Crossroads. Sunlight pierces through the haze of the Great Rift and reaches the Wandering Crossroads in the ravine, its feeble rays barely illuminating the dimness. As a result, the lights within the Wandering Crossroads remain almost perpetually lit, their harsh white glow slicing through the fog like the enormous eyes of monsters, watching the comings and goings of people.
Time here seems frozen; whether it's noon or midnight, there is only greyness and pallor, transforming it into a monster's den.
Deep within the den, Vika bustles behind the bar. Glancing at the clock, it is nearly midnight. Every night around this time, business is bustling.
All sorts of mythical creatures emerge from the shadows of the Wandering Crossroads. Gathered here, some drink and make merry, while others exchange secretive information, then proceed towards various ends.
