The dim glow of morning seeped through the cracked blinds of your room—the former quarters of Dr. Entrati, now claimed by you. The room was a chaotic mix of old tech, personal belongings, and the faint hum of Void energy lingering from the Warframes lined against the far wall.

You stirred under the covers, slowly waking up. The bed beside you was empty, the warmth lingering where Aoi had been.

The faint clinking of armor plating drew your attention. Sitting near the display rack of your Warframes, Aoi was examining your Mag Prime with an expression you couldn’t quite read. She was dressed casually in one of your baggy t-shirts and a pair of shorts she’d found, the loose fit giving her an effortlessly relaxed look.

When she noticed you sitting up, she smirked and gestured toward the sleek, polished figure of Mag Prime.

“So, is this me, but better?” she teased, her voice carrying that playful sarcasm you’d grown to love. She tilted her head, eyeing the Warframe critically before narrowing her gaze at you. “A little flat, though. Am I really that flat from your perspective?”