Every additional mile felt monumental. His speed had slowed further, but there was no hesitation in his posture. His shoulders remained straight. His breathing was controlled. The inferno raged, but he advanced.
Outside the dome, the viewing platform had grown unnaturally quiet.
No one laughed.
No one whispered.
All eyes were fixed upward.
"He is still moving."
An elder's voice broke the silence, trembling slightly.
Victor Veron stepped forward unconsciously, his hands clasped behind his back but his composure thinning.
"He has already surpassed every prediction."
Henry Lumin's gaze had sharpened to an intense focus.
"This is the deepest region of the eleventh layer."
Lilith Carol's eyes reflected the flickering light of the projection.
"If he reaches ten thousand nine hundred miles…"
Her sentence trailed off, because everyone knew what lay just beyond that point.
Ten thousand eight hundred and fifty miles.
Ten thousand nine hundred miles.
