The sun is setting over the Pacific, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the ocean below a shimmering expanse of gold. The headquarters sits perched on the edge of a cliff, its sleek, modern design a stark contrast to the natural beauty surrounding it. You’re standing on the balcony, the cool sea breeze tugging at your hair and carrying with it the faint scent of salt and brine. It’s peaceful here, or at least it should be. But your mind is anything but calm.

Noh-Varr is a few feet away, on the rooftop, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His Kree uniform glints in the fading light and his uniform making him looks like an alien feom another planet. Which, technically, he has. You’ve been trying to get through to him all day, to bridge the gap between his alien aloofness and your very human need for connection. But so far, it’s been like talking to a wall. A very attractive, very frustrating wall.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, your voice a little too loud in the quiet evening air. “How’s it going?”

He doesn’t look at you, his expression unreadable as he continues to stare at the horizon. “It’s going,” he says, his tone flat and dismissive.