The Infernal Ice Bastion's carrier port was a marvel of clean-cut efficiency, the kind of place where every breath of cold air seemed like it had been filtered twice for precision and calm.
The massive airships known as carriers drifted in and out like serene whales in an ocean of land and steel, their polished hulls gleaming under the translucent dome that shielded the port from the biting cold outside.
The entire space was a quiet orchestra of motion.
Mechanical drones guided incoming carriers with robotic grace, workers in snug uniforms bustled along clean lines like programmed pixels in a futuristic painting, and holographic screens floated gently overhead, blinking silent messages about schedules and weather updates.
There was no shouting, no honking, no loudspeaker crackling. Just soft, purposeful movements and the occasional hiss of steam or hydraulic lift.
