Andrew drove through town with his favorite song blasting from the speakers, the familiar rhythm grounding him more than he cared to admit.
Learning the layout of a place you would temporarily live in was important. Knowing where the police tended to gather was even better.
He was painfully aware that this healthy, comfortable body was only temporary. Time was borrowed. That was why he could not afford hesitation.
If there was anything he could still do for his son, he would do it properly.
The town was called Bellya, located near the capital of Lilium, separated by hundreds of kilometers. Normally, that distance would feel far, but on the vast Northern continent, it was considered routine.
Surprisingly, Bellya was not depressed. It reminded him faintly of Bork, except everything here was white. The buildings, the streets, even the roofs looked uniform.
Shops lined the roads neatly, and the houses were almost identical, standing quietly beneath the cold sky.
