Summer meant the light lasted longer- the witching grey hours not coming until 9 at the least. Thraen had long ago stopped assuming that the presence of the sun actually meant much in the activity levels of Youma or other servants of chaos. It was not so clean as the designations afforded the natural world of diurnal and nocturnal. Or anything in between.

It was well after that though, the last gold glimmers of the horizon reflecting weak against the deepening violets and azures of the coming of Night. He liked to watch the play of light, one of his few remaining pleasures, as they painted the skyscrapers of the city and her suburbs. The feel of an aura nearby interrupted the reverie- a knight of some sort. He knew so few of them, and needed to learn more. They were so much more difficult to contact, without access to the phone system. Hopefully they decide to seek me out as well, feeling my approach.

And I have not heard from Babylon or Valhalla on progress with the Jovians. It does not feel the strength of either of them. Well...let us see what we have found. The Eternal of Gardens shifted from his perch on a deco, gargoyle-like carving, heading in the direction of the aura. It was nearer a shopping district- one he didn't personally frequent.


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