By the remoteness, of those icy winds, through the hydrogen clouds, their gazes seemed to sink into the bottomless blue azure. The cold choked the temporal flow but the storms reminded them of their presence, endlessly, without pause, without stop, forever. Though the sun was too far away, still something warmed them from within. Perhaps these thin rings of icy particles, mixed with creator dust grains, interacted with the souls. To the accompaniment of the booming sound of gases, the hurricanes raced over the surface with unrelenting speed. At number seven.

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