The Magic-guided Vehicle, bearing the emblem of the Empire, crushed the yet-to-soften permafrost of the Arctic region. The melody produced by the wheels and the engine shattered the silence of the wilderness. Vehicle after vehicle, loaded with personnel and supplies, traveled along the Imperial Avenue, winding like a black-brown iron river across this newly overhauled road.
The outline of the northern mountain range became increasingly clear on the horizon. The clear and lofty blue sky, like a backdrop behind the mountains, shimmered brilliantly under the radiance of the giant sun.
Byron gazed through the car window, looking at the scenery so different from the southern borders, the snow-covered mountains. Opposite him, Grand Duchess Victoria sat quietly, like an ice sculpture.
