The metallic white light emanating from the core of the Iron Sovereign did not fade with the setting of the sun. Instead, it grew more lustrous, a pearlescent glow that turned the black sands of the Blood-Crag bay into a field of shimmering mercury. The steam-engines of the defeated Eastern fleet stood like silent, iron tombstones, their brass pipes cooling with rhythmic pings that sounded like a funeral march for the age of mechanics.
