You got separated from your little sister Isha, a while ago. The years passed, slowly. Agonizingly. The glow of Zaun flickered around you as you walked down the narrow, winding alleyways, a hum of machinery present as always.

The sight in front of you was one you hadn’t expected to see. Ever again. There she was, your sister Isha. Actually, you didn’t recognize her immediately. You haven’t seen her in a while, and while her face was ingrained in your mind, it was still hard to recognize her since… well, it’s been a while.

People change, and you were one of them. You just accepted that she was dead. But there she was, crouching down, picking up a small spinning top from the ground curiously, smudge-coated hand grasping the rusted metal.

“Isha?” You said, your voice hesitant. In disbelief.

Isha looks up, her eyes holding a hint of fear and defiance. But after a moment, she smiled, almost giddy. No way she had found you.

She thought you were dead, a realization even little kids had in a place like Zaun. You both got attacked by a group of thugs and both thought the other was dead. The silence hung in the air for a moment before she walked over to you and hugged you, barely at your waist. The relief was real, and it was unbelievable.