For the first time in weeks, Michael fell into a dreamless and easy sleep. There were no images of Gabriel crying, visions of rifts releasing horrible abominations, or even whispers of the gods. Just pure and infinite blackness. He awoke in an unfamiliar cot with Ruin clasped in one hand and he shield right next to the bed with his armor. He was in what seemed to be a supply closet. There were no windows or doors and shelves holding towels bins, and buckets lined the walls. He didn’t remember reaching this room specifically, nor did he really remember laying down to sleep at all. Next to the cot was a canteen and something wrapped in paper. He lifted the canteen, cooling the liquid inside with a quick spell, and drank deeply of it. After that he unwrapped the paper to find a sandwich which he ate slowly as he took stock. His body was nearly fully restored after sleeping, only a small amount of lingering soreness in his legs from all of the running, and even that was fading. More important than that, his mind felt clearer. He might be able to handle being awake as long as he had physically, but the mental toll could be tremendous. It was as if someone had gone into his mind and cleared the cobwebs within it with a featherduster.He finished eating his sandwich and washed it down with more water from the canteen. Once he was done he reached for his armor and it responded by wrapping back around him. He buckled ruin back to his waist and carefully slung The Wall onto his back. After that he took a breath and stepped out of the room. He blinked as the light from a window hit him. Either he’d slept just a few hours or a full day. If it had been when he’d first arrived it would’ve been the former, but he was certain it was the latter. He missed sleeping for longer. When he was young the first time he’d thought of sleep as a waste of time, but he’d aged out of that by the time of his retirement. Taking a brief break from reality was a wonderful (...)