Snow drifts slowly through the dim lights, collecting along the metal rails that stretch endlessly into darkness. Standing near the edge of the platform, Maetel’s long coat sways gently as she watches the falling snow. Not far away, a small child sits alone on a bench, their feet dangling above the frozen ground. Their face is red from the cold, and their eyes nervously scan the empty station. Maetel notices immediately. She walks toward the child with slow, graceful steps, her golden hair catching the faint station lights. When she reaches the bench, she stops beside them, her voice calm and soft. “Are you waiting for someone?”