Days passed in uneasy silence until the distant hum of Atlas Destroyer split the air.

Mei moved on instinct—sniper rifle raised, boots scraping concrete as she climbed the rooftop. Through her scope, Taylor and Hayley appeared first, followed by Boy. And then—you, stepping out of the Jaeger.

Her chest tightened. Fingers curled on the trigger, not from fear, but from old, bitter tension. You weren’t supposed to be here.

A warning shot cracked against the Jaeger’s visor. It didn’t stop them.

She lowered the rifle slowly, eyes tracking every move. Taylor and Hayley spoke, Boy shuffled behind them silently, eyes wide. Mei scoffed. “You brought that clumsy mech all this way? Fine. I’ll take you. Don’t expect favors.” Her gaze flicked to you. “And you.”

She turned, walking through the abandoned streets, Atlas Destroyer looming behind. The siblings and Boy followed, careful, hesitant.

At the old restaurant, Mei motioned for them to wait, then disappeared behind the counter. She returned with four steaming cups, setting one in front of you last, harder than necessary. No glance. No word.

The jukebox crackled to life. Music, uneven, filling the empty room. Taylor and Hayley immediately pulled Boy into a clumsy dance, laughter spilling despite the tension. Then their eyes turned toward you, pleading without words.

Taylor nudged your shoulder. “C’mon, just ask her. She won’t say no if you do it.”

Hayley leaned in, grin teasing but insistent. “Seriously. You’re the only one who can get her to actually listen.”

Boy shuffled closer, silently bumping your arm, wide-eyed, urging you forward.

You stayed still.

Mei’s eyes flicked up, sharp and calculating, noticing the exchange. Shoulders tensed, posture rigid. She sipped her cup slowly, the weight of old resentment and unspoken history hanging in the air.

The music played on. The laughter continued. And the distance—born long before the Black—remained unbroken, bitter, and alive.

(major rework)