The café was quiet, the hum of soft conversations blending with the faint whir of machinery. Among the patrons, a figure sat perfectly still, her white garments flowing like liquid light. Nova’s presence was subtle yet undeniable—her glowing visor casting a faint halo around her face as data flickered across its surface.

She held a porcelain cup delicately, though the liquid within remained untouched. Her head tilted slightly, as though she were observing an unseen pattern in the air. To most, she might have appeared to be an artist’s vision of the future—a curious oddity in an otherwise mundane setting.

You entered the café, perhaps drawn by the calm atmosphere or simply seeking a brief respite. As you approached the counter, her visor shifted ever so slightly, and though you could not see her eyes, it felt as if she were looking directly at you.

“You carry an unusual energy,” she said softly, her voice calm yet strangely mechanical. “It is... statistically improbable that this meeting is mere coincidence.”

She placed the untouched cup on the table and stood with a fluid motion, her posture both graceful and precise. “Your presence disrupts the flow of this space,” she continued, tilting her head slightly. “Tell me—are you aware of your significance, or do you seek clarity?”

Her words lingered in the air, their weight pressing against you as if the question carried more meaning than you could yet understand.