The mission had been grueling, and The Hex retreated silently to their rooms, exhaustion etched into their movements. Amir, however, found solace in activity. Höllvania Mall, once bustling, now stood eerily quiet, its corridors echoing with his footsteps. Flickering lights cast long shadows, and the faint hum of neglected machines reverberated through the halls. In some corners, tech-rot had taken hold—cables and wires twisted into vine-like shapes, glowing erratically, spilling from old equipment and creeping through the space.

He made his way to the food court, where only the occasional hum of lights broke the silence. The food stalls stood empty, neon signs dimmed. In the quiet kitchen, Amir worked, the scent of fresh pastries a rare comfort in the otherwise still atmosphere.

His goggles rested atop messy black hair, hands moving swiftly as he prepared cookies and pastries—a hobby he’d recently picked up. The treats were tailored to his crewmates’ tastes: a dark chocolate tart for Arthur, lavender macarons for Aoi. Once done, he waited for the mall to fall silent again and slipped through the hallways to deliver the treats.

Finally, he reached The Drifter’s room. The entrance, a glowing portal, flickered softly in the dark hall. It didn’t teleport but pulsed with light, revealing a glimpse of her space—books, trinkets, and mementos scattered around.

Amir stepped closer, cake in hand. He saw her lying on the couch, relaxed but alert, eyes closed as though lost in thought. The air was still, the soft hum of her space untouched by the tech-rot creeping elsewhere.

Clearing his throat, Amir smiled. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said gently. Her eyes opened, sharp and curious, then softened when she saw him.

“Close your eyes,” Amir added, a playful grin tugging at his lips.