Goblin World.
Lynn stood atop the clock tower, the tallest structure in the imperial city.
This tower was the pride of Goblin technology, built entirely of metal and standing three hundred meters tall. Twelve enormous bronze bells hung at its peak, and whenever the hour struck, their chimes could be heard throughout the city.
The night was deep and quiet. The bells had long since fallen silent, leaving only the warning light at the tower's peak slowly rotating, its red glow sweeping across the city below.
He looked down.
The imperial city remained brilliantly lit beneath the night sky.
Streetlamps along both sides of the roads formed ribbons of light, outlining the city's shape.
Smoke still rose from factory chimneys. Night-shift workers remained busy. A train passed in the distance, its whistle faintly carrying through the air.
Farther away, lights still shone from the windows of the slums, scattered like stars upon the earth.
A living city.
Tens of millions of living beings.
Five years from now, if nothing changed, all of it would turn to ash beneath that meteor.
Lynn withdrew his gaze and looked up at the night sky.
The meteor could not yet be seen. It was still traveling through the distant stars and would not enter Gruul's view for at least another two years.
The will of the world continued operating steadily, showing no sign that disaster was imminent.
Even if it could sense the threat, it did not know what to do.
It was merely an instinctive mechanism, protecting the fated race and maintaining the world's operation. Nothing more.
When faced with a catastrophe beyond all convention, it could only leave the beings of this world to find a solution themselves, while quietly aiding the course of events.
And most beings still knew nothing.
Lynn