The activity around the freight station remained intense even after Strax and the others arrived. Workers unloaded sacks of seeds with disciplined speed, employees registered goods on enormous metal clipboards, and industrial carts crossed the tracks carrying boxes to newly built warehouses. The constant sound of wheels, railway whistles, and voices coordinating deliveries filled the air of Asgard with an almost unbelievable energy for someone who had left that city weeks ago, still marked by fires and makeshift reconstructions.
Strax remained for a few seconds observing all that activity before finally letting out a long, tired sigh. The journey had been long, the weight of the gigantic cart had demanded more effort than he would admit aloud, and above all, the psychological shock caused by Asgard's absurd transformation still seemed to cloud his thoughts. His eyes scanned the enormous Victorian buildings around him as if repeatedly trying to confirm that it was real.
