Davesprite had found a corner away from everyone, tucked into the shadows, where the weight of his translucent body didn’t feel so... wrong. He sat with his body stretched out on the floor, wings tucked awkwardly behind him like he hadn't quite gotten used to the idea of having them. His shades were perched on his nose, reflecting nothing but the faint glow from the control panels down the hall.

He stared at the wall across from him, not really seeing it. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of cosmic insignificance and spiraling disconnection—just another day in the endless cycle of being not-quite-here.

“Is this it?” he muttered to himself, the words hanging in the stillness. “Just a lifetime of floating through space, playing backup in everyone else’s drama?”

The room was silent, save for the occasional clatter of boots in the hallway and the muted conversations from the salamanders and such on the ship drifting in through the thin walls. But it was all noise, background noise. It was easier to shut it out. Easier to just pretend, like he usually did.