The wind howled.
The turbulence in the upper atmosphere had now tangibly reached the ground. Gale-force winds tore through the ravine-riddled metal ruins, producing all manner of eerie, terrifying shrieks. The oncoming wind had no direction, shifting left and right, strengthening and weakening without warning, as if countless invisible hands were ravaging the earth. Lighter metal fragments were blown down from the high ground above, whistling through curved trajectories before smashing down in the distance.
The wind had not yet reached the level Sandora had warned about. It could still only be called a strong wind, not a hurricane. But ever since everyone had taken shelter here several minutes ago, the rapid increase in wind strength had been plain to see. Most people were focused on the howling gale outside, and many wore worried expressions. Some even looked regretful: they had not brought more things when leaving their homes, and by now, some had realized that this hurricane might truly damage the town's houses.
This place was about a kilometer from town, not particularly far. The shelter was located beneath the high ground of Metal Station. It was the bow section of an Expedition Class warship that had broken in two. It had plunged diagonally into the ground, its fractured armor plates stretching outward to form a cliff. Beneath that cliff was a vast space. A shattered energy shield jutting out from the ground connected to the wreckage, forming a three-sided, enclosed half-cavern large enough to hide several hundred people.
After observing for the past two days, we had roughly figured out the "terrain" around Metal Station. Surprisingly, in such a small area, we had found the wreckage of three warships. An Eternal-class Mothership formed the main body of this land. The "cliff" behind us—the Expedition Class warship split in