A dazzling white light ball pierced through the darkness, rushing into the sky amid wind and rain, exploding against the backdrop of dark clouds into a bright cluster visible from afar.
At the northwestern part of Palamere Highlands, in a section obscured by terrain and woodland, a massive and imposing war machine lay dormant on the tracks. The dense rain poured over its dark steel armor, and the flashing signal flares from the Typhon people illuminated its wet steel surface with a fleeting glimmer.
The Iron Throne had turned off all the main exterior lights, and opaque shields were raised over the windows of each carriage. In the dim light, only a few weak signal lamps flickered on the body of the train, their feeble gleam shrouded by rain and the dark sky, almost imperceptible from a hundred meters away.
Inside the tactical section of the armored train, an officer approached Sir Philip: "The Typhon vanguard has signaled."
