The sun had set.
The moon had risen.
We shouldered our packs, and started walking.
My comrades stared about them with pupils the size of mars, and we drifted after the Octopus like Pilot fish after a shark. The Octopus had not started his fire show yet, and instead rattled through the streets, metal skin banging and clanging with every jostle and jolt in the road... this eyes and teeth ever gaping and gnashing. We traveled together for some time, in search of the same thing...
The open desert.
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