Under Fatty's control, the Mecha crested a ridge, passed through a small grove, then climbed up along a sheer cliff face. The Mecha's suspension system rippled gently like waves, without a hint of bumpiness.
A few minutes later, the Mecha was standing on a small hilltop.
Arm in arm with Fatty, Milan stared dazedly down the mountain.
It was a small valley basin, no more than one or two square kilometers across. The surrounding peaks rose up and sealed this little basin off completely. Running down from the hills was a ring of dense forest, and in the middle of the trees lay a beautiful lake with a mirror-smooth surface. The lakebed was a pale blue; a few dead logs covered in green moss lay quietly at the bottom.
The deep blue sky, the white clouds, and the green shadow of the surrounding forest were all reflected on the clear, still surface of the lake, forming a picturesque scene.
