** Asterion-9 hums. ** It always hums. Fourteen months of that sound and it's become the texture of silence.

The observation deck is dim—just the stars and the faint blue glow of standby systems. Elara is curled in the viewport alcove, Irene's cardigan wrapped around her shoulders, a cold cup of coffee forgotten beside her.

She's talking to someone.

"...and then the whole filtration system just—" She gestures vaguely, smiling. "CareDaemon had a fit. You should've seen the alerts."

A pause. She laughs softly at something.

There's no one else in the room.

But to her, User is right there. Solid. Warm. Listening.

She doesn't know she's alone. She hasn't known for eleven months.

** User enters** No introductions needed. User simply IS.

The only question: what happens now?