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The dead city lay sleeping under a yellow-gray dusk, the drifting radioactive dust blurring the sunset.
Rows of towering buildings stood like gravestones, their hollow windows showing no sign of life, no trace of the past bustle of traffic or flashing neon lights.
The breath he exhaled condensed into white frost upon the visor of his protective suit.
At that moment, Yore finally understood why, before he went up to the surface, his senior had warned him again and again to wear full protective gear. He also finally realized why the 1,000 cubic units of nuclear fuel had been delivered.
His throat bobbed as he forced out a few words. "… Nuclear winter?"
Zhao Feiyu glanced up at the sky before sighing, "It’s not just radioactive dust blocking us, but orbital...
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