The ground still trembled.
The disaster seemed as if it would never end.
The old Believer stared blankly at it all.
Everything happening before his eyes was the world shattering, as if heaven and earth were being punished and annihilated.
There was no reason for the disaster's arrival; once it came, it would bring about the end of human hearts.
This disaster was an unexpected calamity without any signs.
"Another accident..."
The old Believer muttered.
He once had a happy family.
Those happy memories were so simple and monotonous that recalling them always started with his child, buttocks bare, tumbling down in the wheat fields during deep autumn, under the high peaks of Lauren, where the wheat was thick and the ears plentiful. Without the need for a cool breeze to blow, the golden ocean beneath the hills would bow its proud head and suffer.
That child was so small, around ten years old, every glance and smile so innocently charming.
