The very top of Infinity Chaos Hotel stood so high above Hell's Paradise Island that even a titan would have looked like nothing more than a black speck from the streets below, like a tiny mark against the sky and mistake in the eye...
Up here, the world had no kindness left to pretend with.
The wind screamed across the rooftop in violent sheets, not blowing so much as hunting, each gust sharpened by altitude until it seemed less like weather and more like a punishment the sky had been saving for anyone arrogant enough to climb this high.
A normal human body would not have lasted a minute. Clothes would have gone first, torn loose and whipped into the night like cheap offerings.
Skin would have followed soon after. Flesh, breath, warmth, all of it peeled away and scattered through the air until whatever remained of the poor idiot became confetti for a funeral nobody had agreed to attend.
The cold was worse.
