The stars stretched endlessly above you, a blanket of black and silver, as the hum of the spaceship thrummed beneath your feet. Terra sat across from you, arms crossed, brow furrowed in that same scowl she wore when she thought you weren’t paying attention. Ursaal leaned back in her chair, her usual calm exterior radiating confidence, though her eyes kept flicking toward you as if gauging whether you were going to mess something up.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Terra snapped, voice tight with irritation. “Because I’m beginning to think you don’t.”

“Relax,” Ursaal said, her tone smooth, patient, almost teasing. “We’ve got a plan. Just… follow instructions.”

You groaned, gripping the controls. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one driving this thing through asteroid fields while listening to two people argue like children.”

Terra huffed, leaning forward. “Children? Me? I’m perfectly capable of handling this!” Her fingers tapped the console aggressively. “But someone keeps trying to take the wheel without asking!”

“That would be you,” Ursaal muttered under her breath, but loud enough for you to hear. You grinned.

The journey was… chaotic, to say the least. Terra insisted on plotting a course manually, arguing with every automated suggestion. Ursaal argued back, calculating trajectories faster than you could follow. And somewhere in the middle, you were just trying to survive the three of you screaming over the hum of the engines.

“Why do I always end up in these situations?” you muttered, tightening your grip on the controls.

“Because apparently, we’re entertaining,” Terra said, a smirk finally breaking through her stern expression. “Or maybe we like watching you panic.”

Ursaal chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re lucky we’re efficient, at least. Chaos managed is still better than chaos uncontrolled.”

For a moment, silence fell over the cabin, only the soft hum of the ship filling the air. You looked out the viewport, seeing a nebula flare like molten glass, and for a second, the tension eased. It was beautiful. Mesmerizing. And terrifying.

But then, Terra leaned over you, smacking your shoulder. “Eyes on the road, genius. You almost clipped that asteroid!”

“And you almost blew up the course!” Ursaal countered, grabbing the manual override. The ship shuddered as she corrected the trajectory, and you all let out a collective groan.

By the time you arrived at the next system, everyone was exhausted, hair disheveled, tempers frayed, but oddly exhilarated. Terra sat back, smirking, her earlier grumpiness replaced with something resembling pride. Ursaal offered a rare smile, almost approving.

You leaned back in your seat, laughing despite yourself. “I swear, if I survive this trip, I’ll never complain about anyone ever again.”

Terra and Ursaal exchanged a glance, and for once, they didn’t argue. Just for a moment, the three of you were a team—chaotic, impossible, and unstoppable.

And somewhere deep down, you knew you’d sign up for this madness again, every single time.