Morning light!
It’s like a dream!
Countless white-hot shells were like gorgeous fireworks under the dark clouds, so brilliant and beautiful that Wright, who was staring at the sky, felt like he was in a gorgeous dream.
The whistling sound brought by the artillery shells seems like the whispers of ancient gods, the murmurs of old gods, the crying of the night sky, the whistle of metal, and more like the last cry of steam machinery in a moment of despair, or even the call for "joy" before a new era.
The harsh, sharp, and loud sound of artillery fire lasted for fifteen or sixteen minutes and did not completely dissipate.
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