The artificial sun hung over Fortress Four like a defiant golden eye, stubbornly refusing the new disaster to affect the base. While the rest of the world was swathed in a suffocating, almost pitch-black ink, the fortress and its immediate neighbors were bathed in a warm, evening glow that felt almost nostalgic.
Down in the courtyards, survivors stood with their necks craned back, shielding their eyes.
"I'm telling you, it's giant mirrors glued together," one man argued, clutching a bowl of multigrain rice.
"The robot is just bouncing stored light, like car lights or something." Another argued.
"Don't be thick, Bill," his friend retorted. "It's a fusion reaction in a jar. Tank probably just put solar powered bulbs inside."
