Chapter 261

Aurora's Perspective When the wheelchair passed through the final airlock door and emerged from the building disguised as an ordinary industrial park warehouse, the sudden influx of light made me squeeze my eyes shut. It wasn’t the harsh, unforgiving fluorescent glare of the lab. It was sunlight. Afternoon light, warm and golden. It bled through my closed eyelids, painting the world a warm, glowing orange. Next came the air. *Oh God, air!* Not the chilled, metallic, sterile taste of the recycling system. Real, outdoor, moving air. It carried the scent of sun-warmed asphalt, of freshly cut grass from a distant lawn, even a faint oily tang of exhaust—smells I usually rolled my eyes at, but which now smelled like heaven. I opened my eyes wide, gulping in huge breaths. The cool air, warmed by the sun, hit my lungs and made me cough, but a huge, almost idiotic grin spread across my face. Unbidden tears welled up, shattering the sunlight into shimmering halos. I was alive.