Chapter 219: The Arithmetic of Fear (1)
The atmosphere at Bastion One was dark and gloomy.
Envoy Thalis Corwyn stood on the landing platform. After breathing the familiar air for the first time in six weeks, he almost gagged on it.
Four hundred atmospheric processors ran under this Bastion. They pulled the air through eleven stages of filtering and pushed it back out clean, and every citizen here had been told their whole life that this was the cleanest air a human being could breathe.
The cleanest air? It was not.
Three days ago, he stood in that garden where he breathed the cleanest air possible. There's always a first time for everything and now, he knew the difference.
'This air tastes like metallic ash compared to it,' Corwyn thought.
'It has always tasted like this. I simply had nothing to compare it to.'
The physicians took him first.
