The cafeteria buzzed with the low hum of conversation, a cavernous space of steel tables and flickering overhead lights, the air thick with the mingled scents of grilled meat, fried food, and coffee.
Voices overlapped—sharp laughs, tired groans, the occasional clang of trays against metal.
Syn sat across from Aster, his lean frame slouched in a chair, his cast-bound ankles stretched awkwardly beneath the table.
Before him sat a tray of half-eaten food—chicken strips and sandwiches, a meal he'd ordered for himself but someone else's hands kept stealing from.
Aster, fork in hand, swiped another piece of chicken without even looking at him.
Syn sighed, barely sparing her a glance. His hazel eyes flicked toward the far wall, where a holo-screen looped high-resolution videos of Earth's nature—rolling green fields, towering forests, deep cerulean oceans.
A place from the far past.
