The dazed, blind fools wandered outside the power plant.
From the thick fog there came the low thunder of the port’s power facilities; the cold steam core turned hollowly, steam itself having become part of the warped phenomenon, and even the shelter of flame had long since vanished.
But “shelter” in this world had grown optional.
The line between “normal” and “abnormal” had blurred long ago.
As minds fell along with the world, “reason” itself was seen here as madness and pollution — and so the mad gathered behind high walls and built the last refuge, watching the outside world with trembling anxiety as it sank into darkness.
“We’ll prepare ample supplies for the Resplendent Star,” Helena said from a platform high above the power plant, addressing Vanna and Lucrecia who stood beside her. “You can relocate to berth at the western dock — it’s one of the outbound passages we still control.”
“Can this ‘lighthouse’ still supply provisions?” Lucrecia asked, surprised as she looked at the pontiff. “You have that many resources?”
“Yes. Supplies aren’t lacking. That might not match your first impressions of this place,” Helena smiled.