What used to be a military mess deck, now serves as a diner for the trawler crews operating in the Arctic circle. Even while already on inside, you can still feel the chill creeping in behind your collar, as the windows aren't entirely insulated, allowing for slight but frosty draft. Howling of the wind outside still makes you grateful for the structure. An older gentleman sitting by the window traces wood knot lines of the table's top with a single finger.

Eternity is but a smear of walked in dirt within infinity's gilded halls... - you hear him utter, as if nobody at all could possibly hear it.