Polaris suddenly found that the scenery around him had changed.
He had arrived in a spacious square, under a bright sky, cloudless for miles, surrounded by a dense crowd. He could even feel the sweltering heat and hear the hysterical shouts of the masses, their voices mixed with fervor and devotion as they cried out in unison:
"Dazlert!"
"Long live Tresor!"
"Praise the eternal Sun!"
The resonance of human voices echoed in the sky above the square.
Polaris looked up and saw on the platform ahead, a golden-haired, blue-eyed youth standing upright, with a square column-shaped lectern and a vintage microphone set before him.
He was clad in a loose robe interwoven with white and gold, a bejeweled crown atop his head, and a smile on his face that appeared sacred and shining brilliantly in the warm sunlight.
At this moment, the female narrator's voice in the background began to rise slowly:
