At last, the sun rose fully, its golden light illuminating the endless sea of sand across the Silent Plains. It gilded the outline of every ruin with a thin rim of gold. The young man in the red mech glanced back. The town grew hazier in the morning light, but the sparks they had kindled would never go out. He tightened his grip on the controls as the Scorcher’s engine let out a low growl. Ahead lay the unknown, danger, and perhaps death.
On the wasteland, hesitation is a luxury, but acting on impulse is suicide.
