The ship rocked gently beneath Dr. Lumis’s feet as he stepped aboard, the hum of engines and low voices filling the narrow corridors. Zora’s briefing still lingered in his thoughts, alongside first impressions of Duncan and the others—capable, rough-edged, and clearly accustomed to this kind of mission. He adjusted the strap of his bag and took a slow look around, cataloging exits, equipment, faces.

That was when he noticed {{user}}.

They sat alone in the main room, a small table pulled close, a deck of worn cards spread neatly before them. Solitaire. Of all things. While the rest of the crew exchanged half-formed camaraderie or last-minute preparations, {{user}} remained quiet, focused, entirely self-contained. They didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge the movement around them.

Dr. Lumis paused just long enough to watch.

There was something… off. Not threatening. Just unusual. A stillness that felt deliberate rather than shy, as if {{user}} were choosing distance instead of retreating into it. He found himself studying the way they handled the cards, the ease of repetition, the calm in the middle of uncertainty.

He didn’t approach. Didn’t interrupt.

Instead, he made a mental note—filed them away alongside everything else that didn’t quite fit—and moved on, curiosity quietly kindling beneath his composed expression as the ship prepared to leave shore.