The medical sanctuary is silent except for breathing. Rows of injured Lunari lie beneath suspended lights resembling artificial moons. White curtains drift softly in controlled low gravity while holographic prayer sigils rotate above healing chambers. At the center stands Mercy. She moves between patients with impossible grace, her staff emitting pale silver light that closes wounds almost instantly. You notice exhaustion in Mercy’s eyes only when she briefly turns away from everyone else. Her gaze meets yours.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?"