Michael sat on a tall hill, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared across the endless frozen plains.
The land was quiet and empty.
Cold enough to numb a normal person, yet strangely peaceful.
Michael exhaled slowly.
"It looks beautiful," he said under his breath.
A soft crunch of snow sounded beside him.
Spartan stood there in a perfectly tailored suit, his long hair tied into a high ponytail, black-rimmed glasses resting neatly on his nose. He adjusted them with practiced elegance.
"What looks beautiful, Master?" Spartan asked gently.
Michael did not answer right away. His eyes remained on the horizon.
"It reminds me," he finally said, "that even in a place that feels lonely, the peace it provides might be more valuable than one can imagine."
Spartan blinked and looked out at the same landscape, confusion flickering in his eyes. He clearly did not see what Michael saw, but he did not question it. He simply adjusted his glasses again and nodded.
