The construction site was filled with ruins, and fireflies danced in the sky, beautiful and stirring.
This was originally a secluded open field, but it became enchanting because of the fireflies, full of vitality.
Occasionally, the sound of machines could be heard on the site, but only the sound of the wind remained in Sylvan Cheney's ears, sometimes, fireflies would brush past his ears.
He wandered around the open field at will.
Sometimes, those fireflies would follow him.
The night wind was very cold, but Sylvan Cheney's heart was warmed by these little creatures, with a slight upward curve on his lips.
He walked aimlessly.
If a pebble blocked his path, he would kick it aside.
The moonlit night was extremely beautiful.
He sat on a stone, watching the bright moon and clouds in the sky, watching the dancing fireflies, his solitary silhouette fell on the stone and ground, lonely and serene.
He sat for a long time, maintaining the same posture.
