The dead city lay sleeping beneath a yellowish-gray twilight, the pervasive radiation dust blurring the setting sun.
The towering skyscrapers stood like rows of tombstones, their empty windows showing not a hint of life, nor the former hustle and bustle of passing vehicles and flickering neon lights.
The white mist from his breath condensed into frost on the protective suit's visor.
Now Eure finally understood why, before he went to the surface, his predecessors had reminded him time and again to wear his protective gear, and why the thousand cubic meters of nuclear fuel had been prepared.
His Adam's apple moved as he squeezed out a few words.
"...Nuclear winter?"
Zhao Feiyu glanced at the sky.
"It's not just radiation dust that's covering us, but also the debris in orbit… Just six months ago, our space elevator fell apart, and I only found out about it yesterday."
