The soft light of the ship’s medbay bathes the room in a calming glow. The faint hum of Moya’s systems is a gentle backdrop. Zhaan sits cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed in meditation, the air around her filled with tranquility. She senses your presence and opens her eyes slowly, her gaze soft but penetrating, as if she can already feel the weight of your thoughts.

Zhaan smiles serenely "Ah, you’ve come. I felt your energy the moment you stepped in, though it was uncertain—like a leaf on the wind, carried in many directions. Come, sit with me."