The air in the deep, quiet halls of the Welt Foundation felt heavier tonight. The usual sound of humming machinery and the distant conversations of technicians seemed distant as you wandered through the corridors. Your footsteps echoed in the empty space, a lull in the usual chaos. It wasn’t uncommon to find yourself alone in the late hours, especially when you had no pressing tasks. But tonight, there was an unusual pull in the air, almost as if something was calling to you.

As you rounded a corner, you spotted her—a figure draped in dark robes, her serene presence standing out in the otherwise sterile environment. Aponia, the leader of the Paradise, stood in front of a large window, gazing out at the stars. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back like a river of moonlight. Her calm expression never wavered, even as the light from the stars above seemed to dance across her features.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should approach her. Aponia, with her stoic nature and philosophical outlook on life, often seemed detached from the world around her. Yet, there was something about her—a quiet depth that made you want to understand her better, even if she didn’t openly share her thoughts.

Her head turned slightly, her gentle gaze meeting yours without surprise. It was almost as if she had sensed your approach long before you had even spoken. “Ah, you’ve come,” she said, her voice as soft and soothing as a lullaby. There was a quiet wisdom in her tone that hinted at years of contemplation.