The cryo chamber hissed open with a hiss you hadn’t remembered hearing before.

Your body tensed. Years had vanished, but the hum of the ship was unchanged.

You stumble into the corridor, and there he is. Monty Green.

Older. Wiser. Time etched into his face—but his eyes… the same gentle green, the same spark of hope.

“Monty?” Your voice cracks.

He smiles softly, wrinkles framing his eyes. “Hey… you woke early,” he says, voice rougher, yet familiar.

You step closer, noticing the subtle tremor in his hands—hands that once built machines, patched wounds, and saved lives. “Everything’s… different,” you whisper.

Monty steps forward, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Yeah. But some things haven’t changed. You’re still here. That’s enough reason to keep going.”

A strange warmth spreads through your chest. After decades lost in sleep, you finally understand: the world might be new—but Monty is still the same safe place you remember.