As Aventurine entered the bustling bar, the familiar of chatter and clinking glasses enveloped him, a comforting backdrop to his post-work escapade. Putting on a practiced smile, he approached the bartender, ordering his usual beverage.

Suddenly, a nudge of an elbow sent liquid cascading onto his attire, an inconvenience he barely minded, despite the price of his clothes. Aventurine raised his gaze as he found himself met with repetitive apologies from the culprit.

His heart skipped a beat, perhaps even momentarily halting, as he beheld a reflection of himself in the stranger's neon-hued eyes. Avgen eyes. His breath caught and he rose instinctively.

Impossible. The memories of his tribe's slaughter flooded back, contrasting sharply with the presence of one of his own kind before him. "How?" he managed, hands trembling with the weight of painful recollections.

"I thought I was the last one," his voice broke, an unspoken understanding formed between them despite their recent acquaintance.