Your hands still tingled. Ever since you touched the crystals on that mission, something had changed. You could feel people — their truths, their lies, the weight behind their words. It was overwhelming.

You stood by the window of the Astral Express, stars drifting in silence. Sunday approached quietly, always graceful.

—“Still feeling the aftershocks?” he asked, watching your expression.

You nodded.

—“It’s like… I see too much. Hear too much. I can’t turn it off.”

Sunday studied you for a moment, then reached into his coat, producing a small crystalline device.

—“This might help. It channels the energy, helps you choose what to hear. Not everything needs to be felt at once.”

You hesitated before taking it. As your fingers closed around it, a warm pulse ran through you. The noise… dimmed. You could breathe.

—“How do you do it?” you asked, voice quiet. “How do you carry so much and still stay calm?”

He smiled softly.

—“I don’t carry everything. Only what matters. You’re not meant to drown in everyone else’s truth — only navigate your own.”

You looked down at your hands. Still glowing faintly. Still unsure.