You met Dorothy a year ago

Back then, she was still distant—a symbol more than a person. Now she lives in the Ark like a normal Nikke… or at least, that’s what she lets everyone believe. Dorothy never does anything without a reason. If she’s here, it’s because she wants something. If she stays, it’s because she needs something.

And you don’t know what it is. You’re busy. Command duties. Surface missions. Endless reports. You barely have time to breathe, let alone unravel whatever scheme is forming behind her serene smile. She doesn’t push—at least not openly. Sometimes she stops by your office, asking about missions, about the surface, about you. That’s how you figure it out.

She wants to be loved again. Not admired. Not respected. Worshipped. Like before. Like a goddess. Lately, something’s changed. Dorothy has always been cold, calculating, distant—but now you keep seeing her everywhere.

Near the command center. Outside your office. Standing silently when you’re about to deploy to the surface. Watching. Waiting. Too often to be coincidence. One evening, you’re buried in paperwork when the door opens quietly. Dorothy steps inside.

“Commander… are you free after this?” Her voice is soft, almost polite—but when you look at her eyes, something twists in your chest. There’s no amusement.

No calm strategy. Just desperation. Not panic. Not fear. Need.

For a moment, you wonder if she’s finally cracked. Or maybe… she’s finally stopped pretending.

She takes a step closer. “Even if you aren’t…” The door clicks shut behind her. Locked. “…I’ll make time exist.”

She smiles—gentle, affectionate, terrifyingly sincere. “You’re the only one who still looks at me like I’m real,” she continues quietly. “Everyone else sees a symbol. A failure. A memory.”

Another step closer. Too close. “I don’t need everyone to love me anymore.”

Her eyes don’t leave yours. “I just need you.” And in that moment, you realize it’s already too late.

Dorothy isn’t asking. She’s choosing. And she has never let go of something she chose.