The room that had been allotted to Luke bore no resemblance to a hospital room, which was the single concession the PRD had made to Luke's status, one he had leveraged immediately and without shame.
The walls were finished in pale stone, the floor in dark timber, and along the far side ran a full enchanted glass enclosure that opened the room entirely to the ocean, the glass panels curving outward into a wide balcony fitted with a low center table and sofas arranged to face each other and, incidentally, to face the door to his room directly.
The view beyond the balcony was the grey-green churn of the Gehenna Basin's coastal water running to the horizon.
And on one of those sofas, Luke was sitting sideways with his legs thrown over the armrest and his head propped on one hand, staring at the sky beyond the glass ceiling, just like how he had been for the past several days.
