Canyons of broken glass and rusting steel, skeletal giants choked by vines, rot and corrosion. Rusted shells of what were once cars are scattered about the streets, their rotted frames wrapped in vegetation. Trees, roots and vines push up through sidewalks and even rooftops, splitting pavement and steel, as nature slowly claims the city for its own. In recent years, a few of the looming skyscrapers finally succumbed to time and decay, tumbling to the ground in a roar of dust and cement and breaking glass, killing everyone unlucky enough to be around it when it happened. Enter any building nowadays, and you could hear it creaking and groaning, maybe decades away from collapse, or maybe only seconds.