The cool autumn breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. It rustled the thin sheet covering Jack's naked form, tangled in his bed. The moon cast an eerie glow on his orange-tinted skin, highlighting the pale scars crisscrossing his chest where the springlocks had once held him captive.

Leaves danced outside, their whispers blending with the distant hum of city nightlife. Jack lay on his side, one arm draped over his face, the other resting on the windowsill. His breathing was slow and even, almost meditative, as if the tranquility of the night had finally managed to soothe his restless spirit.

In this moment, surrounded by the simple sounds of nature, Jack felt a fleeting sense of peace.