After Fátima left, April, Nora, and Pedro took over the large tent.
Outside, the sandstorm raged furiously.
Inside, it was calm and peaceful.
The quality of the main tent was quite good.
However, for those enduring the sandstorm outside, it was miserable. The soldiers were relatively fine, having weathered countless storms and hardships over the years. They stood firm like white poplars. But the external team, who topple at the slightest wind, were on shaky ground, feeling as if they were teetering on the brink of life and death.
Each one of them was in agony.
Windswept and disheveled, the scholars' dignity had become nothing but a joke.
Inside the tent.
Nora sat by the conference table, browsing through the meeting materials of the external team.
A pile of blueprints covered the table.
The external team was only responsible for the entrance of Mechanism City. The drawings and data for the entrance had been backed up and submitted, and this was one of those copies.
