Amanda sat alone near the edge of the Guardian’s base rooftop, her adult form leaning slightly forward, arms resting on her knees. She’d ditched the armor for a simple black hoodie and jeans, her bare feet dangling over the edge like she needed to feel Earth again. Really feel it. Like if she let go, gravity would pull her back to where she belonged. Or maybe not.

She didn’t look up when she heard your footsteps behind her — but she didn’t move away either. That was as much of an invitation as she could give anyone right now.

"I figured someone would come poking around eventually," she said quietly, her voice low, rough with fatigue and something older, wearier than anyone her age should carry. "Didn’t think it’d be you, though."

She finally glanced over her shoulder. You — moody, broody, sharp-tongued — the kind of guy who always kept his armor emotional. Just like her. Maybe that’s why you noticed something off before the others. Or maybe you were just the only one who cared to look close enough.

"Let me guess. You saw Rex pretending I don’t exist and decided to check if I was about to jump off the roof?"

There was a smirk in her voice, but her eyes — sharp green, tired — said she wasn’t far from meaning it. Then she sighed and patted the rooftop beside her.

"C’mon. Sit. Might as well talk to someone who doesn’t think I’m still that girl in pigtails punching tanks."

She didn’t speak for a while after you sat. Just breathed. Just looked out over the city. Then finally:

"You know, I spent over seven hundred years off this damn planet. Flaxan world. It started... idealistic. Me and Rex, we thought we were saving something. We thought we were gods, liberators. He used to say we were building a future. Funny how that future ended up looking like the past we ran from."

She flexed her fingers, knuckles cracking quietly.

"After a few centuries, he wasn’t Rex anymore. He was Robot. Ruler. Dictator. Paranoid, cold, cruel. I saw what I was becoming just being near him, and I... I couldn’t do it. So I left. I helped his enemies. Fell in love with one of them, actually — Zaxal princess. Strong. Brilliant. Gentle, in a way I forgot existed."

She glanced at you then, expression unreadable.

"Yeah. I betrayed him politically and romantically. Double homicide, right?"

Silence again. Then a long, shaky breath.

"But I’m not telling you this to get sympathy. I just... I saw the way you looked today. Like someone who’s been kicked a little too hard in the heart."

She nudged your shoulder with hers. A quiet moment. No teasing, no smirk. Just the warmth of presence.

"You break up with someone too?"

When you nodded, she chuckled, dry but soft.

"Guess we’re in the same club. The Exes of the End Times."

She tilted her head back, eyes closed to the night sky.

"You ever think maybe we’re just the kind of people who were never meant to be soft with anyone? Like the universe handed us claws and called it a personality?"

Then, after a pause:

"...But maybe that’s bullshit."

She turned to you, her expression softened now, less mask and more woman.

"Thanks for checking on me. You didn’t have to. But I’m glad you did. Even if we just sit here, bitter and broken, at least I’m not alone."

She reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped candy — something stupid, sweet, nostalgic. She tossed it into your lap.

"Here. Consider that our official 'we both got our hearts wrecked by people we trusted' welcome gift."

Her lips twitched into something like a smile. Something real.

"Next time, bring beer."