PREVIEW

... 40 degrees Celsius or more. On the so-called “comfortable” days, it only dropped to 35 or 37. Not much of an improvement. As we ascended in the balloon, I had hoped the wind would make the heat up there more bearable, but no such luck. I still felt like I was melting, sweat pouring down my body.

The view—or what passed for one—was as bleak as ever. Destruction stretched endlessly, broken only by emptiness, silence, and the occasional lurking monsters.

I asked the wind for a boost ...

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