In the space he'd launched from, beautiful white phosphorescence scattered about, the imagery not unlike soft downy feathers of angels themselves.

Of course, yet again, Miyao's out for a pleasure flight at this hour. It was something he liked to do from time to time, letting himself indulge in the primal feeling of flight. Beneath him, a gleaming swarm of cars blanket the highway, a sight that he swears he never really tires of. It's the most exhilarating thing!

...He's enjoying himself up until his mental display pings a notification at him.

A friend has arrived poyo!

Of course. There's only really one person that could be. With a grumble, he responds, "What? I'm busy. Can't it wait?"