But now, people have flew out of this rock ball.

"It's right."

Fang Zhao said softly.

A relocated convoy left in the distance, and the sound of the engine gradually left.

In the outer spaceport, huge transport ships docked on the side and were about to sail to a further channel.

More and more people will forget the scar that lasted for a hundred years.

There is no need to worry about having no way out when the end of the world comes next.

One day in the future, everyone may forget this life planet that has nurtured countless people.

The scars of that hundred years only exist in dusty historical data.

Perhaps in a longer future, for people at that time, that hundred years can be summarized in just one sentence.

Or maybe, someone will remember the bright stars of that period on a certain night with dim stars.

But the era that belongs to "us" is over after all.

What comes from the past is also belongs to the past.

After sitting quietly for a while, Fang Zhao stood up, looked back at the rows of gray and white tombstones crowded with vision, and turned around and left.

...

In the hotel room, Nanfeng was playing with the game console with Curly, and from time to time to see the electronic clock next to him, and silently shouted in his heart: Boss, come back quickly and change your style!

———
Chapter completed!