Imagine a broken escalator coming up through the underbrush of a forest, with no second floor there to receive its long-gone passengers. In the background, among the trees, you can make out the steel skeleton of what was once a great building, perhaps the transit hall of an airport. Once this was a busy hub filled with people going places. Now Mother Nature is recycling the remains, in her infinitely slow but irresistible way. What happened here? How did it happen? Or, perhaps, could it be that nothing ever did happen the way it was intended to? Those are among the questions asked by Covenant on their seventh studio album Modern Ruin.