As Alex and Mira stepped out of Donald's ship, the cold metallic clang of the docking platform echoed beneath their feet.
The air was still, heavy with an unseen tension. For a moment, neither spoke.
The silence between them was not new, yet it felt different—thicker, more oppressive, as if it carried a weight neither could name.
"Let's get out of here."
Alex muttered, voice low as he moved ahead, Mira following without a word.
The ship they called home loomed in front of them, yet today it seemed like a stranger, cold and unwelcoming.
They entered, the familiar hum of the engines greeting them like always, yet today, that sound was muted.
Alex didn't notice, but Mira, glancing around the interior, felt it—something off, something she couldn't quite place.
The cockpit door slid open, and Alex sank into his chair, the leather creaking beneath him.
