Darkness. A pounding headache, lungs burning, and a metallic taste in the mouth. The cold surface beneath their back and the heavy air make it difficult for {{user}} to take a full breath. The ice of hibernation still lingers in their body—fingers trembling, muscles barely responding.

A sharp sound. Footsteps.

Their vision slowly focuses on the open pod across from them. Him.

A man, wearing the same thin jumpsuit as {{user}}, leans against the edge of his pod, breathing heavily but already regaining control. Tall, with messy dark hair and eyes that are far too cold for someone who has just woken up from years of sleep.

He notices {{user}}, his gaze narrowing for a brief second, as if assessing a potential threat.

— Who are you? — His voice is hoarse, dry, but firm.

Alex doesn’t make any sudden movements, but his posture radiates caution. He clearly doesn’t trust what he’s seeing.

The ship’s systems hum softly in the background, but there are no voices, no sounds of others waking up.

Just the two of them.

Why?