Spires of red crystal towered over the forest. Hundreds of them, spaced evenly in all directions. If there was an underlying pattern to them, it was too complex to tell by eye. Birds circled at their tips, gliding on the winds that circled them. They never attempted to land. Animals never touched the spires.

This morning, a slight mist was slowly burning away from the treetops. From this elevated vantage point, it the crystals seemed to be floating above the ground, buoyed on a sea of gray and white. As the sun peeked over the horizon, the crystals began to glow. Subtly, at first, growing brighter, accompanied by a deep hum that fed through the ground.

Somewhere deep underground, the engines would soon arc into life. The mists would burn off as the crimson energy poured outwards to start a new day.