16
Smoke stood on the edge of a gigantic waterfall. The area was a giant, forest-ringed crescent.
The rocks were brown and gray and hard under his boots.
He was himself again.
Not himself.
A cyborg.
But there was no more pain. No more anger or emotions. Just calmness.
The sky was ethereal, pink and yellow, like a watercolor painting. The stars seemed to drip from the sky like gleaming, glittering wet paint. Beyond the water, the forest shimmered.
The waterfall was more powerful than anything he'd ever seen—white and blue and spilling over the rocks.
He sighed and looked out over the water. Clouds of mist rose from the edge of the waterfall. He could taste the vapor on his tongue.
Had he been here before?
It didn't look familiar.
And then he looked closer at the vapor. Something
