The salty sea breeze from the Pacific Ocean was wrapped in the smell of gunpowder smoke and stuck to Fang Mo's skin that was scabbed by spiritual pressure, like a film that couldn't be shaken off. He was half-kneeling on the collapsed alloy wreckage of the Sky Fortress. Under his feet were the clouds rolling with ink-colored turbidity. In the distance, a sickly orange-red color was floating on the sea level, making his shadow long and thin, hanging crookedly in the remaining light of the broken energy shield.
