After the blizzard ceased, the intense burning that lasted for several hours finally gradually came to a halt, like a revelry after a sacrificial ceremony, with the remaining ashes swirling like black snow across the sky.
It seemed as if everything had ended—new enmities and old grievances, glory and shame—all cast into the scorching flames and burned to nothing.
The night sky deepened further, as if a colossal black creature was slowly diving down.
The giant whale of steel and machinery slowly cruised within the clouds, sails slicing through the cumulus, dense steam exhaled like breath, with engine sounds resembling thunder, as if carrying the wind and rain.
"How's the Geiger index response?"
"It's within the stable range; it appears Lawrence is already dead."
A brief dialogue took place in the command room. This time, Arthur personally led the team. In the somewhat dark space, various indicator lights illuminated his aged face.
