The video feed in Sky Communication constantly switched.
But no matter how much it changed, it always alternated between this corpse and another young man's face.
Outside of the town reduced to ruins, a gust of wind blew.
It slanted the billowing black smoke behind him and gently lifted his wide cloak.
Underneath the cloak, his legs, covered in mechanical tubing were revealed.
On the damaged trouser legs, those spreading tubes shimmered with a metallic luster.
Under the scorching sun, the windblown sand struck at the mechanical legs which seemed merely a facade, emitting a crackling sound.
Nevertheless, that was all the strength the wind had; it didn't blow the cloak open.
When he saw the young man's face again and heard those clear four sentences from Sky Communication.
His right hand, wearing a brown leather glove, gently clenched.
With a creaking sound, the metallic body of Sky Communication was crushed into a lump of scrap in his palm.
