Moss stands on Tidemouth's eastern wall, amber-streaked eyes fixed on a distant dust plume rising over the thornbrake.Moss stands by the well, hands on the pump, as Sūrya watches from a distance, the dust-filled air marking the old boundary.Sūrya stands in the courtyard, her fingers a blur as they touch her mesh implant, the overcast sky casting a brass glow on her composed face.Kael writes a message in carbon ink, her scarred arm catching the brass light, while Sūrya's hand rests on the digital panel.Moss and Sūrya stand at the open window, amber and gray eyes reflecting the fading brass light, the city below flickering with cook-fires.Moss stands on Tidemouth's eastern wall, hands on the merlon, amber eyes fixed on the distant, ominous dust plume.Sūrya turns from the well, her hand dropping from her ear, as Moss approaches with a grim expression.Sūrya stands composed at the center of the Twelve Antarctikans, the stark compound walls echoing the cold, clinical atmosphere.Kael hunches over a wooden desk, quill in hand, while Priya stands by the transmission array, her hand on the panel.Moss and Sūrya stand on the eastern wall at dusk, silhouetted against the fading sky, the distant dust plume thinning.
