If he were an artist, he would've considered painting the sky in front of him, streaks of orange arcing through the blue as his namesake disappeared beneath the horizon. The sunset was beautiful here, much more so than any he had seen in Kanto.

Alas, Elio was no artist, for his hands were not gentle enough to make a paint brush flow with the creativity required to capture the scenery in front of him. His talents were better used within the tower behind him, recording history and understanding the why of the past.

He'd delayed long enough. Sky Pillar awaited.