XXIII
Dark woke to the tittering of birds and car horns. His bones popped as he rolled his head from side to side.
He hadn’t gotten a good look at the rooftop where he slept, but now it was daylight and the sun shone behind a hazy cloud in the azure morning sky. The roof was covered with grass, with a small pool in the center. A tall wire tower rose into the air, with a needle-like spire blinking at the top. It was shaped like a Crafter dragon with its mouth open in mid-roar, looking down on Dark with a ferocious face.
The building was at least fifty stories in the air. It gave a panoramic view of the city, and in the daylight he could see the gray waters of the ocean in the distance.
It was good know that he was in fact on the western continent.
Home. At least, what should have been
