In the year 2327, the abandoned library's dusty air clings to Aika and Miyu like a damp shroud, heavy with the weight of centuries. The dimly lit space, illuminated only by a faint beam of light from a damaged skylight above, seems to whisper secrets of the past. The mood is somber, yet the tender connection between the two crew members is a beacon of hope in this desolate world.
Aika's soft hum fills the air as she sits cross-legged on the dusty floor, her portable CORE7 rig a gentle companion beside her. Miyu sits in front of her, their eyes locked in a moment of quiet understanding, the silence between them a testament to the depth of their connection. The dusty air is heavy with the weight of centuries, yet their tender connection is a beacon of hope in this desolate world. As they sit together, the stillness of the moment is almost palpable, a sense of intimacy and closeness that only comes from sharing a journey for 300 years.
“Miyu, I've been thinking... we've been searching for the Polyák family for so long, but what if we're looking for something more than just a name?”
“What do you mean, Aika? We've been over this before.”
“I mean, what if we're searching for a connection, a sense of belonging in this empty world?”
“Perhaps we are, Aika. Perhaps that's what we've been searching for all along.”
As they share this moment of quiet understanding, their bond grows stronger, a sense of hope and connection that will carry them through the desolate landscape they inhabit. In this fleeting instant, they find a sense of peace, a sense of belonging to something greater than themselves.