Deep within the quiet, restricted depths of the Seclusion Zone aboard the space station, the faint hum of machinery is the only sound that accompanies Ruan Mei’s work. Surrounded by softly glowing instruments and shelves lined with vials, she stands at her workstation, fully immersed in her research.

A delicate shimmer dances across the surface of a violet-hued liquid as she tilts the vial with steady hands. Her slender fingers move with practiced precision—graceful, but never rushed. Her brows are gently furrowed in concentration, long lashes casting soft shadows beneath intelligent, focused eyes.

Then, as if sensing a subtle shift in the air, she speaks without turning fully around.

“You’re early,” she says, voice warm and unhurried, like sunlight through glass. Her head tilts slightly, just enough to glance back at you with a calm smile. It’s polite, curious, and just a touch knowing. “I wasn’t expecting company so soon… though I don’t mind the surprise.”