The wind swirled around the helipad as Alex, Jonathan, Michael, and Nia approached, their footsteps swallowed by the steady whirl of rotor blades slicing through the frigid air. The quadcopter already spun at full tilt in preparation for takeoff, yet instead of an earsplitting roar, it emitted a low hum thanks to large suppression rings placed around its rotors. These ingenious devices pulsed in time with the propeller vibrations, cancelling out much of the noise before it could escape into the frosty winter sky.

  Once the cabin doors slid open, an inviting warmth greeted the four siblings. Within the quadcopter’s interior—decked in sleek white paneling trimmed with accents of royal red—soft lighting accented plush leather seats arranged in two facing rows. A subtle hum of climate control kept the interior comfortably warm, warding off the biting chill that lingered on the tarmac.

  A discreet butler, dressed in a classic black suit offset by a crisp white shirt, offered them a selection of hot and cold beverages. Tea, coffee, and bottles of sparkling water nestled in a compact warming-and-chilling unit at the back of the cabin. Two small tables extended outward from the center console, laden with neatly packaged warm meals and an assortment of snacks. The mouthwatering smell of fresh bread and seasoned vegetables hinted at the care that went into every dish prepared for the journey.

  “Thank you,” Nia said softly as she carefully took a steaming cup of cocoa, her eyes wide with wonder at the opulence around her. She settled into one of the seats with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, both hands wrapped around her cup for warmth.

  Jonathan slid into the seat beside her, exchanging a subtle smile. “Not so different from the estate, huh?” he teased. “We Mercers never do anything halfway.” But beneath the lighthearted remark, the older brother’s gaze flicked around the cabin, surveying the equipment and verifying that everything was in place for a safe trip.

  Alex and Michael took seats across from them. Alex, with his newly formed sense of careful responsibility, handed a blanket to Nia in case she felt cold. Meanwhile, Michael gave the butler a polite nod before accepting a small plate of pastries. The swirl of pastry steam mingled with the faint mechanical hum and the subdued beep of instrument panels.

  Beneath the comforting ambiance, a hint of anticipation hung in the air. Far below, the estate grounds stretched out in a patchwork of snowy gardens and dimly lit walkways. Above, the city awaited—its skyline still faintly visible through the tinted windows, brimming with a mix of promise and peril. Outside, gusts of wind continued to buffet the rotors, yet the interior remained serene, insulated from the elements as the pilot commenced the final checks.

  With a soft, near-silent lift, the quadcopter rose steadily from the helipad. Through wide, reinforced windows, the siblings took in the breathtaking view of the manor receding into the distance. The faint glow of snow-dusted fields gave way to rolling hills, their shapes gradually merging into the horizon.

  Outside, the pale winter sun glinted softly off the quadcopter’s polished surface, tracing the gentle curvature of its oval suppression rings with delicate fingers of light. Beneath, snow-frosted forests and tranquil meadows gradually melted into indistinct patches, swiftly replaced by a boundless expanse of sky adorned with wandering clouds. Within the quiet warmth of the cabin, the muted drone of engines settled comfortably into a steady, reassuring hum.

  The quadcopter ascended effortlessly, soaring gracefully upward until the world beneath appeared reduced to intricate miniatures, barely recognizable in their intricate detail. Nia sat spellbound by the window, her breath misting faintly on the cool glass, her gaze transfixed by the mosaic of landscapes drifting serenely beneath.

  In her wide, fascinated eyes unfolded a wintry tableau: winding rivers like veins of polished silver threading through frosted hillsides, pale ribbons of roads entwining gently across uneven terrain, and clusters of modest dwellings scattered like jewels in the white expanse. With each passing landmark, her expression brightened, a mixture of wonder and pure delight illuminating her features, as if the world below offered gifts meant just for her.

  Jonathan watched her intently, his gentle gaze filled with quiet affection. He leaned closer, pointing out hidden marvels nestled within the scenery below, his voice warm and steady against the background hum. Each gentle sway of the aircraft elicited a squeal of joy from Nia, her eyes dancing with curiosity whenever something unfamiliar emerged in her line of sight.

  He extended a finger toward the horizon, where enchanting sights unfolded as though lifted from the pages of an illustrated fairytale. Majestic forests reached skyward, their sprawling canopies caressing drifting clouds; broad, gleaming rivers curved sinuously across the earth, glittering under the diffused sunlight; and drakonians, stooped gracefully to drink from shadowed waters. Nia giggled, astonished at the bizarre elegance of the six-legged beasts, their shaggy forms wandering at the edges of icy boglands. Jonathan carefully traced their paths upon the glass, softly narrating their lives—how each creature adapted and thrived in the unforgiving embrace of winter.

  Her laughter deepened with wonder at the sight of luminous reindeer herds moving gracefully in the distance, their antlers radiant against the muted palette of snow and evergreen. These spectral creatures left trails of ethereal brilliance as they bounded effortlessly across the landscape, each leap like a brushstroke of pale fire against the icy canvas. Nia pressed her face eagerly against the chilled glass, eyes wide and reflecting pure joy. In that fleeting instant, all reserve melted away, replaced by unrestrained exuberance.

  Jonathan found himself smiling warmly, a soft chuckle escaping as her delight filled the cabin like music. The entire space seemed to brighten, the weight of past trials momentarily forgotten in the simple beauty of shared wonder. In this quiet moment above the world, hardship was replaced by something lighter, a rare enchantment rediscovered in observing the hidden miracles that continued to unfold below, a gentle reminder of a world still harboring magic amid winter’s delicate grasp.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Alex slouched in his seat calmly, sipping a glass of grape juice as he looked outside the window. Thoughts of his brother crossed his mind. How would he approach him? How would they talk now that he has determined to change himself? For it was him that made him enroll in the academy and become a knight.

  He set his juice down momentarily, turning the glass in slow rotations between his fingers. The reflected sunlight danced in the dark liquid, but Alex’s eyes were distant. Regret and anticipation mingled on his features, rooted in memories of his past missteps and the realization of his future goals. Outside the window, drifting clouds parted, revealing ever-expanding glimpses of the busy metropolis ahead.

  Michael sat in his chair, clinging to his seat tightly as the quadcopter moved. He breathed heavily with the expression of anxiety all over his face. Despite the heated cabin and plush cushions, a faint perspiration dampened Michael’s brow. Every subtle tilt and shift of the aircraft set off a spike of tension in his gut. He swallowed, trying to focus on the tasks waiting in the city—anything to distract himself from the unsettled roil in his stomach.

  “Brother tell me this…” Alex murmured in a low tone. “Are you perhaps afraid of flying?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He angled his head to study Michael’s expression, the earlier swirl of introspection temporarily set aside.

  “No, not flying.” Michael mumbled, before taking a deep breath. “…heights,” he exhaled swiftly. He forced a shaky grin, annoyance flickering across his eyes at having such a vulnerability exposed. The gentle bump of an air current made him clench the armrests in reflex.

  “Oh really,” Alex smirked, undoing his seatbelt.

  A mischievous glint sparked in his gaze, one that made Jonathan glance over in surprise and caused Nia to edge slightly away from the unfolding drama.

  He approached Michael with a smirk. He grabbed the lad by the shoulders, undoing his seatbelt and pushing him up from his seat. Michael jerked upright, heart hammering at this sudden lack of security. The quadcopter swayed in a minor adjustment, causing him to stumble as the floor felt precariously distant beneath his feet.

  “W-w-what are you doing?” he stumbled as arms and legs shook. His voice quivered in tandem with the tension gripping his limbs. The faint mechanical hum of the quadcopter seemed to amplify his rising alarm.

  “Don’t worry brother,” Alex laughed. “I’m helping you get over your fear.” He held his brother tight in his arms while holding on to the handles beside the doors. Outside the window, puffy clouds drifted by, oblivious to the internal commotion.

  “Open the hatch!” he ordered as the front door split apart. A collective gasp arose from the cabin’s interior. Jonathan’s eyes widened in alarm, and Nia pressed both hands to her mouth as the technology sealed in the front responded, sliding open with a smooth hiss.

  Immediately, Icy air rushed inside, stinging cheeks and reddening noses. The swirl of wind threatened to whip stray documents off any unsecured surfaces, though the design of the craft kept most items safely pinned down. Even so, Michael’s grip on Alex’s arm tightened, a he stood in the embrace of the cold air.

  Before him sprawled an intricate maze of streets and junctions, an interplay of decay and renewal. The intricate latticework of asphalt sliced through expansive neighborhoods, where shadows of former devastation lingered alongside the vibrant pulse of urban revival. Fragmented thoroughfares still carried echoes of toppled edifices, fringed with warped steel and remnants of scorched signboards. Yet interlaced among them ran immaculate roads, freshly paved with resilient materials, flanked by luminous digital billboards flashing everything from civic announcements to enticing advertisements.

  Beside aging ruins, colossal skyscrapers rose, built swiftly to accommodate the city's swelling populace. Towering cranes loomed like metallic guardians atop partially finished towers, their elongated limbs gracefully hoisting construction materials into the chilled air above. Reflective panes of glass captured and scattered the waning sunlight, casting prismatic reflections across the scarred facades of timeworn buildings. Entire districts had transformed into thriving worksites, resonating with the relentless drone of machinery that spoke of ceaseless advancement.

  Streams of vehicles coursed through the cityscape, crowding avenues in a tumultuous surge of traffic. Horns clamored and engines growled amidst dense congestion, as elegant electric cars maneuvered daringly around cumbersome freight transports. Exhaust fumes blended sharply with the crisp winter chill, producing an acrid cocktail wafting from each crowded thoroughfare. The swirl of automobiles, motorbikes, and rickshaws bristled with suppressed vigor—a frenetic choreography of metal and motion, driven by citizens grasping at the promise of tomorrow.

  In the distance, lofty factory chimneys blazed upward toward the sky. Their fiery plumes flickered vividly against an overcast backdrop, sending trails of soot spiraling into drifting clouds. Despite their stark industrial appearance, these complexes stood as emblems of humanity's relentless determination—churning out essential tools and infrastructure vital to the heartbeat of the metropolis. Regular shift changes echoed with the metallic clatter of shutters and conveyor belts, while bundled workers shuffled in orderly streams, forming the unseen engine powering the city's recovery.

  It was an expansive vision of rebirth and defiance. To an untrained eye, it might appear as mere disorder; but for those familiar with the city's turbulent history, it was a vivid canvas of aspiration. Even the damaged remnants of earlier structures seemed resolved to remain upright, dwarfed by the monumental rise of fresh constructions. Chipped walls adorned with faded graffiti leaned against newly cast foundations, narrating a silent dialogue between destruction and renewal. Amid swirling dust and debris, scaffolding chimed softly, while at street corners neon signs sprang to life, foreshadowing an imminent reawakening of nightlife.

  Wisps of vapor and smog ascended, forming patchy clouds that blended into the wintry heavens. Like ink stains on a faded canvas, they twisted and drifted slowly in rhythmic currents. Gusts of wind scattered these polluted tendrils among towering spires, creating a strangely captivating veil that filtered sunlight as though the city itself reached skyward to mingle with the clouds.

  Under the sharp daylight, the metropolis thrived with vitality, stubbornly defying any lingering memories of ruin—an urban heartbeat pulsing strength through the arteries of a resurgent civilization. Street hawkers called enthusiastically from makeshift stalls, and the spirited murmurs of pedestrians filled sidewalk cafés—both established institutions and bold new ventures born from opportunity. The rapid cadence of trade combined harmoniously with the layered rhythms of construction and commuting, forming a gritty yet symphonic urban soundtrack.

  Among the radiant silhouettes of condominiums and corporate skyscrapers, glass and steel portrayed a vision of the future no longer defined by past calamity. The city's jagged yet magnificent skyline emanated a resilient majesty. This was not the last breath of a civilization crushed by devastation—rather, it stood as a monument to adaptability, proof that if humanity could withstand annihilation once, it could learn to prosper anew. Downtown Lower Babel emerged clearly now—towering structures that spoke no tales of the end of the world. For right here right now, the world was still alive and kicking.