Carving through swathes of Scaldra, leaving nothing but carnage and mangled bodies. Alarms blare, sirens wail, explosions ring out, screaming, so much screaming.
A quiet voice sings beneath it all:
"Around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world."
Viktor's voice bellows through the streets, swearing reprisal, swearing bloody vengeance in the name of his gods. Divine retribution upon your soul, your body to be bathed in holy fire!
A quiet voice sings beneath it all:
"Around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world."
A lone form, stumbling through the streets. Their shuffling footsteps and the distant howls of the Technocyte all that can be heard.
Their quiet voice sings beneath it all:
"Around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world."
A gentle voice whispers from behind the eyes, congratulating on a job well done. Shoulders are clapped, smiles are shared. A lone form strides from those noisy souls that call them friend.
Their quiet voice sings beneath it all:
"Around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world."
Springs creak, a pillow deflates, a threadbare blanket clings to their battered body. There is silence, bar their gentle voice.
"Around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world, around the world."
