The urban night sky is not completely dark, with neon lights reflecting faintly, casting a dim blue-grey glow inside the room.
Her fingers gently brushed over the glass, Tilan could see her faint fingerprints on the clear glass.
The tips of her fingers felt cool, and in the darkness, her breaths became more audible as she lightly pressed her fingers against her chest, feeling her heartbeat.
She is not an all-knowing divine being; being a mortal with her own growth experiences and perceptions, she also has her own preferences and likes.
Turning around, she leans her back against the floor-to-ceiling windows and closes her eyes to reflect on her life and her feelings.
Even though she now lives a life of wealth similar to those of the rich, finding it difficult to enjoy it and overlook the hardships faced by ordinary and lower-class people, she feels an inherent resentment toward those corporations with immense power and wealth.
