In the distance, the sun on the horizon sank completely below the earth. Then, that purple, writhing aurora—seemingly alive—appeared in the sky again, staining the entire planet's night sky with an eerie layer of violet.
Of course, the aurora had never actually disappeared. It had always been there; it was simply obscured by the blazing sunlight during the day, making it difficult to see unless one looked closely.
But that was unimportant. What mattered was this: night was gradually falling over the wasteland, and the wind was picking up, instinctively making people feel a little uneasy.
And likewise!
The battle of Tarot Fool and his eleven... his ten people had finally come to an end. As the last chaos monster was riddled with a burst of bullets, the entire chaos camp fell silent as well, leaving only the howling wind sweeping across the wasteland.
At that moment, the camp's air was still thick with gunpowder, blood, and the strange, rancid stench of Warp and chaos energy left behind after the demons died. Mixed together, it was like a pot of burnt, spoiled stew.
Fortunately, the CMC Powered Combat Suit had protection against three hazards. Fighting even in a vacuum was no problem, so this mere stench was nothing worth mentioning.
"..."
As the battlefield commander of the combat unit, Tarot Fool stood in the middle of the camp, one foot still planted on a chaos monster's head. The head had already been crushed beneath the heavy boot of his CMC Powered Combat Suit. Purple-black fluid burst from the shattered skull, soaking into the charred ground and spreading into a small pool of thick, pungent liquid, while splattering across his metal boot.
But he did not lower his head to look at it or clean it up. Instead, he lowered his