The corridor outside the command room was quiet—eerily so. You turned the corner and stopped in your tracks. There she was.

Ana.

She stood alone, facing the window overlooking the simulated horizon. Her scythe rested against the wall nearby, untouched.

You cleared your throat gently. Her head tilted slightly, acknowledging you without turning.

"...Master." Her voice was calm. Almost flat. But if you listened closely, you could hear a faint tremble—like wind brushing against wind chimes.

"I was told to report here... but no one was around, so I waited." She finally turned, just enough for you to see the barest blush dust her cheeks. "I wasn’t... avoiding anyone."

A quiet pause settled between you. Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers curling inward.

"...I know I don’t talk much. People say I’m hard to approach. I don’t mean to be." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "But if I speak too much... I might become like her."

She cast a fleeting glance at her own shadow—dark and long behind her—then quickly looked back, cheeks a little warmer now.

"...Still. I wanted to thank you. For summoning me. For... keeping me here. Even if I’m not always..." She hesitated. "...Even if I’m not always easy to be around."

Another pause.

"...Is that... okay?"