5 kilometers.
10 kilometers.
100 kilometers...
The higher he rose, the more frost formed on the windows, the sky grew darker and colder, and the clouds gradually disappeared from view.
Just then, a thought suddenly flashed through Yamada Machiichi's mind, a thought crowded with illogical questions at this final moment of life. Though he had already recorded his last words on the white crane, he still softly asked the black box:
"Su Ming'an..."
"Tell me... if Zhai Xing had consciousness, would it be... proud of humanity?"
"We've done so many bad things, polluted the ocean, cut down forests, fought so many wars... turned a perfectly good planet into a mess."
"But we also... created so many beautiful things, wrote so many touching poems, painted so many lovely paintings... and right now, for each other, for a future that might be very bleak... we've tried our hardest."
"In some ways... we've done some good things too, haven't we?"
No response.
Darkness became thicker.
