Just as Jiang Chen and Evelyn worried about the future of Frankberg, it was late in Ukraine on the other side of the globe.
It was already late May, and the air on the outskirts of Dnepropetrovsk began to feel hot.
The old church stood alone in the middle of the shambles. Perhaps it was because the warring parties had intentionally avoided firing at it that it miraculously survived. In the cemetery behind the church, dark smoke slowly floated up. In order to prevent the plague from spreading, the citizens of the suburbs all helped the government forces to drag the dead bodies there and incinerate them.
Two streets away from the church were the front lines.
A ragged old mother limped forward and wandered around the Dnieper River filled with dead bodies. She was numb to the constant cannon shots in the distance. She mechanically touched the faces soaked by water as she muttered: "God", "Jesus", "No".
