The flying aircraft "Cloud Whale" sailed smoothly at ten thousand meters altitude, with its gigantic rotor emitting a deep and rhythmic hum, like the long breath of a colossal beast.
Outside the window, the magnificent sea of clouds unfolded under the morning light, sometimes flowing like molten gold, sometimes stretching like continuous snow peaks. Occasionally, strange flashing creatures would skim through the clouds, eliciting continuous exclamations from Annie. Frankenstein loyally crouched at her feet, his button eyes occasionally shifting, while Naliti quietly stood by her side, like an elegant elf depicted in a painting.
Inside the room.
Lynch had entered a state of cultivation beside the small round table at the center of the cabin. He wasn't sitting cross-legged; instead, he relaxed against the dark velvet sofa, eyes slightly closed, his breathing long and nearly imperceptible.
