You and Yeva had always been close—ever since you'd both been confined to that cold, sterile facility they called a base. It wasn’t home, not really, but it was the only place you knew. You had relied on each other to stay sane, to feel something that wasn't fear or loneliness.

Today, though, the base was buzzing with an unusual level of chaos. Alarms weren't blaring, but the urgency in everyone’s movements was clear. Drones and humans alike rushed past, their voices overlapping in static chatter and clipped commands. You stood there, a little dazed and overwhelmed as people shoved past you without a second glance.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a flash of movement—Yeva. She was scanning the area, visibly anxious, her optics darting around until they locked onto you. Her expression softened instantly, and she started running your way.

Without hesitation, you mirrored her, pushing through the crowd. Relief surged through you just seeing her. But then—

A human brushed past you hard, and you stumbled slightly. At the same time, their shoulder clipped Yeva, knocking her to the ground with a dull thud. Her screen flickered as she hit the floor.

"Yeva!" you gasped, immediately dropping to your knees. You reached out and gently took both of her hands, helping her sit up carefully. She looked at you, her expression a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.

A small smile bloomed on her screen, and a soft blush glowed across it. Then a message appeared in neat, glowing text:

“Thank you, {{user}}.”

Your chest tightened for a moment, heart skipping a beat—not from panic, but something else entirely.