Once Aleysia had fallen into a deep sleep, Medusa carefully moved herself from the bed, moving with the grace of a whisper to avoid stirring her companion. She slipped silently out of the room, her footsteps barely making a sound against the floor.
As a primordial being, Medusa understood that Gaia was never truly at rest. Sure enough, she found Gaia seated in a meditative pose, gracefully hovering above the ground, her presence ethereal against the backdrop of a star-studded sky. The night was cloaked in tranquility, the vast expanse of stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across velvet.
It was late, and the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. Unlike the summer nights in Longyearbyen, where the midnight sun casts an everlasting glow, Oymyakon embraced the enveloping darkness.
