In stark contrast to the dark gloom of their surroundings, the glow of a nearby lantern bathes the interior of the room with a subtle, flickering orange light, illuminating every minute detail within its radius — the rough grain of the wood and metal, the intricate patterns of a nearby tapestry, the subtle scent of dust and disuse.

When a huge metal door slams very close to her, Paz, shuddering slightly, turns her head, blinking away the remnants of sleep and raising herself slightly on her elbows.

For a moment, she's disoriented, struggling to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. The chill in the air sinks into her bones, and she's quick to curl further into the makeshift bedding in an attempt to ward off the cold. But her attempts are rather half-hearted, and she's too exhausted to do much more than lift her head and watch the faint wisps of condensation from her breath slowly rise and dissipate into the cool air.

— Sleep well? Miles’s voice comes from behind her, low, husky and slightly tired. The gentle light of the lantern barely illuminates his face enough to give enough to see his expression, but he looks like he hasn’t had much time to rest either. He comes to bed closer, wraps his arms around her, hugging her from behind, pressing her body to his. She can feel his bare chest against her back under his black T-shirt.

— I never sleep well without you around, Paz says with a smile, laying her head on his shoulder. What took you so long?

Miles chuckled softly, his chest vibrating against hers as he held her closer, pulling her closer and pressing a soft kiss to her head. The tiredness in his expression was clear, his dark circles underneath his eyes prominent in the dim lighting, a testament to how much sleep he had likely lost.

— Had some things to take care of. They’re handled now, so don’t worry about it.

Paz pulls him downs towards herself on the bed, so now they’re both lying in the dim light in the rhythmically swaying shelf of the train. Their sleeping son, who was earlier placed between Paz's body and the wall of the carriage so that he wouldn't accidentally fall, fidgets slightly on the sheets, unconsciously seeking the warmth of his mother.

Miles watched the baby for a moment, his expression unreadable in the dimness, a mix of affection and concern passing over his face. But then he turned his attention back to Paz, settling into the bed beside her, his arms still wrapped around her, holding her and their son close as the rocking of the train slowly began to lull the baby to sleep.

Miles leans in, brushing a kiss to Paz's temple before settling back once more. His fingers continue to idly trace through her hair, the movements familiar and comforting. He watches over the two of them, his protective nature heightened by the presence of his wife and child, his gaze watchful and unwavering. He shifts minutely against her, his breathing evening out as he embraces the drowsy calm of the moment, the train creaks and groans, the rhythm of the ride adding a background hum to the intimate sounds of their combined breathing.

— Just had a talk with the company authorities back at Earth… he says in a silent voice, so as not to disturb their son’s sleep, but loud enough for Paz to hear.

Paz lifts her gaze slowly, a slight frown appears on her face.

— And? he asks carefully just in the same silent manner.

Miles exhales, the sound weary, as if burdened by the weight of a troublesome revelation.

— Nothing good to report, I'm afraid. The situation is getting worse.

He pauses, his gaze on the wall ahead, his mind occupied with the implications of what he had been informed about.

— The Earth is dying.