The figure seemed to be flying, but Khan knew the difference and eventually became able to spot it. However, by then, his mind and gaze had wandered to other details.
Khan finally understood the reason behind that familiar, cozy cold. It belonged to the first woman he had ever loved, the person who had taught him his way of experiencing feelings, the girl whose memory still afflicted his loneliest and most desperate moments.
The woman kept walking on the air, ice shards forming under her feet whenever she stepped forward. Her technique was similar to Khan's previous iteration of flight, albeit more suited for her element.
Khan remained in his position, waiting for that inevitable meeting, his mind blank while his glowing eyes captured every possible detail. Eventually, the woman reached the balcony's edge, stopping above it to imitate his behavior.
