Chronos stood at a respectful distance from Izanami, his eyes capturing her silhouette against the panoramic view of the kaleidoscopic blur outside the ship.
She was bathed in the ethereal glow, her head tilted skyward as if searching for answers in the heavens.
Her face was masked, an inscrutable barrier that hid half her emotions, but he didn't need to see her whole face to know she was lost in profound thought.
Torn between the desire to console and the fear of intruding, he remained still, a guardian statue waiting for a sign, a word—anything to break the pensive spell.
And then it came, her voice as melodious as a stream over polished stones.
"Tell me about my daughter… my… family."
Izanami said, her words carrying more than mere curiosity. They were a plea wrapped in a query, a silent indictment of their shared history and unspoken truths.
