The morning sun finally rose completely, and the golden light illuminated the endless sea of sand on the Dead Silence, coating the outline of every ruin with a thin layer of gold. The young man driving the red mecha looked back - the outline of the town was getting blurry in the morning light, but the ignited fires would not go out. He tightened his grip on the controls, and the Emberburner's engines let out a low growl. Ahead is the unknown, ahead is danger, and ahead may be death.
——In the wasteland, hesitation is a luxury, but impulse is a kind of suicide.
