He lay back, hands behind his head, gazing up at the stars that slowly began to appear above. They weren't the constellations he knew, but they were no less beautiful.
Tomorrow, the climb would continue.
Morning broke gently on the sixth floor.
The sunlight filtered through the canopy of tall, dreamlike trees, casting golden beams across the grass, flowers, and dew-speckled leaves. A soft breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming petals and moss, rustling the branches in a lullaby-like whisper.
Noah opened his eyes slowly, blinking up at the soft blue of the sky above. The fire from last night had long since gone out, leaving only the warmth of the rising sun to greet him. Birds—or what passed for birds here—sang light, melodic tunes nearby, their iridescent wings fluttering like stained glass.
For a moment, he just lay there, breathing in the morning air.
But rest didn't mean idleness.
