Tracer rounds burning with scarlet flames marked the path of the Metal Storm through the night.
Compared to the sturdy Steel Dome, the gray rapid-hardening foam's main function was to seal breaches while withstanding the temperature difference between the vacuum's cold and heat. This heavy sealing measure was effortlessly melted through by Miniature Armor-Piercing Deuterium Fusion Warheads. Even as the old circulation oxygen generators began operating automatically, even as the emergency repair systems continued spraying inert chemical compounds that had been sealed in canisters a thousand years ago, the already thin air in the clan settlement could not withstand repeated leaks.
This was what Olaril saw.
Only seconds ago, the Kymellian Clan civilians had been fleeing in panic. Then they collapsed to the ground, gasping desperately, their eyes bloodshot and hearts racing. Others were simply sucked into the air by the overpressure along with debris, then dropped freely after leaving the airflow, smashed into buildings in mangled heaps of flesh and blood. Along the broad main road leading directly to the Royal Court Assembly Hall lay scattered building wreckage and civilian remains. The Human Army's Armored Track Vehicles mercilessly crushed every obstacle in their way. Buildings were pierced and toppled by the armored vehicles' Laser Weapons. Buildings sheltering large numbers of civilians were forcibly flooded with burning refined chemical fuel. Thick smoke rose straight into the air, flames danced within the pillars of smoke, and a pungent black cloud gathered beneath the Steel Dome.
Despair drowned Olaril's mind as completely as crossing the lunar terminator and plunging into the eternal dark side. From that moment on, every order, every vision, every shred of pride was torn to pieces. The wails of survival became the only command guiding his limbs. They said the Kymellian Clan was cold, mysterious, and inhuman. They