September 1, 2020, 01:12, Iceland, north of Hof Glacier.
It was already deep into the night, with a crescent moon hanging high at the horizon's end, forming a complete circle with its reflection on the ice surface.
The glacier was silent, with the lake waters sealed beneath the frozen soil flowing gently, reflecting the aurora at the horizon, swirling with a blue-green glow.
At this moment, a red-and-blue camouflaged scout plane was silently traveling under the skies.
Inside the cabin, "Overloader" Garfield sat in the pilot's seat, silently gazing at the satellite image showing that snow-white giant tower—if predictions were correct, it had to be the Salvation Society's base.
"Getting closer to that tower," Garfield said, "This organization called 'Salvation Society' is really bold... Knowing we're coming, they keep their gates wide open?"
The cabin went silent; no one answered his question.
Garfield glanced at the group behind him through the rearview mirror.
