Jörmungandr and the Iron Scepter Armored Train assigned to escort it sped along parallel tracks. The two War Machines had already left the plains and entered the mountainous region near Shadow Marsh several minutes earlier. Rolling low mountain ranges flashed past outside the windows, while the daylight grew ever dimmer.
Maryland stepped up to the window and saw that the sky as far as the eye could see had been completely blanketed by iron-gray clouds. Weak sunlight barely pierced the cloud cover, casting an unsettling, ghastly white glow deep within it. Cold winds howled outside, sweeping snow and dust into a shifting, murky curtain. Beyond that curtain lay utter desolation.
This was a typical uninhabited region along the northern border. Such bleak scenery was commonplace here.
This overcast weather had also become common lately.
Yet a vague sense of unease lingered stubbornly in Maryland's heart. He could not identify its source, but experience earned through countless struggles on the battlefield had taught him never to casually dismiss something like intuition. He had always believed in a principle espoused by Scholar Falman of the Ansu First Dynasty: behind every intuition were clues overlooked by the conscious mind.
This unease could not have arisen from nowhere. Something discordant must have happened nearby. He had yet to notice it, but his subconscious had already detected the danger, and now the life-and-death experience he had accumulated over the years was sounding an alarm from deep within his mind.
"General," the adjutant beside him said. Maryland's grim expression was especially abnormal after a mission that had gone so smoothly. "Has something happened?"
"Has aerial reconnaissance found anything?" Maryland asked with a frown. "Any word from the ground reconnaissance units?"
The adjutant froze for a moment, unable to understand why his commander was suddenly asking about