The Free Port remains brightly lit late into the night, searchlights like Light Forged Great Swords ruthlessly sweeping across the sea surface, as large ships churn waves and sail into the port. Interwoven mechanical arms construct an iron jungle, with heavy containers standing together, piled up as if forming a High Tower.
The workers move through it, directing forklifts to transport goods. From a distance, they seem like ants crawling over a miniature model.
Ants, everyone is an ant, at the bottom of this food chain.
Long ago, Hert realized this; the Free Port is an ever-turning factory, with ships arriving and departing every moment, laden with cargo, much like blood flowing through a heart, transporting oxygen to different organs.
Gazing from afar at the dazzling lights, along with those faint lights hidden amidst the endless darkness on the sea, each light represents a ship.
Like worker bees and the queen bee, worker ants and the queen ant, and...
