A mecha was destroyed on the battlefield woven with war fires, just like a small raindrop in the midst of rain, completely unnoticed.
However, on this night, this raindrop was so conspicuous.
Under factory buildings collapsing like an earthquake, amidst the dust and flying bricks and rubble, the explosive lights of mechas flared intermittently. Yet none of these lights shook people's hearts as much as the flames flickering on this purple wreckage.
The purple mecha burned, then suddenly exploded, its fiery debris flying in all directions.
People watched the mecha's wreckage with strange expressions, as if they saw a curse, a prophecy, a signal. Their hearts trembled inexplicably.
This feeling is difficult to describe with words.
It's like a boxing king favored by many and heavily betted on, knocked out cold by an opponent half his size the moment he stepped into the ring.
Aside from stunned, it was hard for everyone to find other words in their minds.
