The end will come, all things will collapse, and human civilization will disappear.
In the dormant cabin, Wutong listened to Eden’s songs and wondered what he was thinking.
As one of the few remaining fusion warriors of the Moth Chasing Fire, he can barely survive into the next era of civilization.
“I’m here.” replied with a little girlish electronic voice.
“Everything goes to sleep and will start in a minute.”
Indus is relatively sensitive to time.
He reached out to turn off the music and entered the password.
Eden’s singing came to an abrupt end.
The most representative voice of nature in this old era has disappeared and will not be heard in the future.
Wutong found a comfortable position and closed his eyes.
“Good night, Prometheus.”
“Good night, Mr. Wutong.”
The dormant capsule slowly descends, the old world collapses, and a new world will eventually be born.
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