The night air inside the Tower's domain was peculiar—cool enough to feel refreshing, but never cold. Viktor walked through what had become a garden, his boots pressing into soft green grass that hadn't existed two days ago.
The artificial moon hung overhead, casting everything in silver-blue light that made the world look dreamlike.
In the center of the clearing, a bonfire crackled. Not for warmth—the temperature here could be controlled with a thought—but for atmosphere. The orange flames danced and popped, sending sparks spiraling upward into the star-filled sky.
Mira sat on a log near the fire, her dark hair catching the flickering light. She wore a simple white blouse that strained slightly across her massive chest, the top two buttons undone.
Her green eyes reflected the flames as she studied a large piece of parchment spread across her lap.
Beyond her, Viktor could see Rusty and Rustina hard at work.
