The artificial ground made its way through the soil like a giant, metal worm. Corby managed to keep the airplane under his control, flying it slow enough to allow his team to follow. Bob provided the relief to his brain by draining him of the excess glowanade.
"Is this working for you, Corby?"
"Yeah," Corby said. "The draining is faster than … Forest could provide." After a second of silence, he added, "I still can't believe he ..."
Bob had a sorrowful look on his face. "He was always on the verge of giving up. I know you've said some things that pushed him to do it, but you yourself weren't in a much better place either. At least you didn't give up on your life."
"If that bastard of a newsbot can still have hope in spite of all that we've lost, then I can afford to give this
