In the square at the center of the Great Iron Plants that was facing the geothermal well, illuminated by the scorching flames and observed by countless workers, the hundred leaders of Nepenthe were escorted out.
After days of consecutive interrogation, their bodies had been damaged to different extents. Some were only able to stagger forward by supporting each other. Their heavy manacles left earsplitting noises and feeble sparks when they were dragged on the ground.
However, there was neither the fear for the upcoming death nor the nonchalance when they practiced the Serenity Arts on their faces; only vague delight and relief could be seen now.
Everybody whistled the old and warm tunes while they walked to their doom, hand in hand and shoulder to shoulder, leaving their final smiles to the workers around.
