Gawain stood in the depths of the vortex, while this cold, dead, bizarre world remained frozen around him, as though it had not changed for millions of years.
A human was as tiny as dust on this battlefield.
He raised his head and saw the dragons wheeling around the Metal Giant Tower in rings through the sky. The flames, frost, thunder, and lightning they unleashed were all frozen in the air, and against the background of that sphere-like shell resembling shattered glass, everything looked distorted and unreal, like wildly splashed ink.
Were those dragons still alive? Had they already died in real history, or had they truly been frozen in this stretch of time and space? Or were they still alive in the world outside, carrying memories of this battlefield as they survived somewhere?
A flood of inexplicable thoughts and speculation suddenly rose in Gawain's mind, but his unease over the current situation left him no time to ponder matters so distant. He forcibly steadied his emotions, first calming himself down before searching this bizarre "battlefield ruin" for anything that might help him escape his predicament.
This frozen time and space was clearly abnormal. The violent core of the Eternal Storm could not naturally contain such an independent space, and since it existed, some force had to be sustaining it. Though Gawain could not guess the principle behind it, he felt that if he could find the "anchor point" maintaining this space, he might be able to change the current situation.
In any case, he had no better idea.
Holding on to that sliver of hope, Gawain pulled himself together and continued searching for a path that would bring him closer to the Metal Giant Tower at the center of the vortex.
The surrounding ruins and illusory flames lay piled