And so the years went by...

The silence was thick in the medical room, broken only by the constant hum of the machinery monitoring vital signs.

Korrin, still dull-eyed from the weight of trauma, rested on the bed in the Infinity's medical ward. Outside, in the corridors, whispers about the "girl with the black arm" were beginning to spread among the crew like an infection. Some called her a savior. Others, a cosmic accident.

On the side of the bed, on a metal tray, rested the newspaper.

Its cover was made of synthetic leather, black and with a simple buckle to close it.

Korrin opened his eyes slowly. He still felt in his chest the echo of the cruel words he heard behind the door. The doctors' conversation, the whispers in the corridors, the distrust.... Childhood had slipped down his throat along with the screams of the people, Yuki's crying, the explosion of the dome.

He reached out his right arm, still human, and touched the journal. He opened it awkwardly, his fingers trembling. The pages were completely blank.

A tear fell on the first leaf.

He closed his eyes. For an instant, everything disappeared: the doctors, the murmurs, the steel of the ship. All that remained was the smell of new paper... and the desire to remember.

"If it all disappears... at least what I write here will remain." he thought. 

The blank page seemed to absorb not only ink, but hope.

And so, time passed.

The pages began to fill up. At first, with childish scribbles. Then with shaky words. Then with ideas, thoughts, broken dreams... and names. Names of those who left. Names of those who remained.

One by one, the leaves became witnesses to a slow and irreversible transformation.

The girl who cried silently became something else. Something hardened by loss. Something that had no time for weakness.

Years have passed...

Korrin stood motionless in front of the gigantic observation window of the ship they called Infinity. The ship, now his home and prison, floated in the darkness like a wandering fortress.

Outer space was vast. Immense. Indifferent. The stars shone as if mocking her. As if the universe had never noticed the destruction of Utopia 7.

At his side, his left arm rested against the tempered glass. Black in color, with green stripes that pulsed to the rhythm of her breathing, as if it had a life of its own. It was an aberration, but also an extension of herself.

He wore the white uniform of a platoon commander, with dark borders that outlined his firm figure. His face, more mature, bore the marks of time and impossible decisions.

And then he opened it, that diary that had been with him since the first day.

And then he opened it, that diary that had accompanied him from the first day.The pages were full of words. Some written with rage, others with tenderness. Some crossed out with fury. Others, simply... empty.

He ran his finger over one of the sentences on a middle page. He had written it when he was twelve: "If I ever wake up and don't remember who I was...this book will remind me."

A long sigh. The journal closed with a faint click.

Korrin: Sometimes... I feel like it's still there.

She whispered to herself, slowly flexing her corrupted hand. The hum of the servomechanisms broke the silence like a broken echo.

Korrin: As if she could hear Yuki laughing at how clumsy she was with the ball.... 

A twinge. Sharp. Cold. Like a dagger buried behind the eyes.

Korrin folded in on herself, gritting her teeth. One of her trembling hands sought support on the metal wall as the world around her blurred. Her breath caught. Her vision narrowed to tunnels. And then, he heard her.

That voice. 

It was not a sound. It was an intrusive thought vibrating in his marrow, a presence that crept like dark smoke between his neurons.

██████: You can't escape... I am always with you...

Korrin closed his eyes tightly, as if he could banish it. But the voice was still there, persistent, mocking, ancient.

██████: Everything you see...everything you ever loved...is mine. And always will be. I am the beginning... and the end.

Korrin: Shut up...

He growled through his teeth, slamming his fist against the wall, barely a graze, but charged with pent-up rage.

The voice disappeared. For now.

Behind her, the sound of sure footsteps broke the silence. It was Selene Vaelis watching her from the entrance of the corridor, arms crossed. Her silver hair, gathered with military precision, fell like a waterfall over her right shoulder. His face, stern, hid a genuine concern. She had seen him before. Many times.

Selene: Those voices again... Someday that connection will help us to find that thing... whatever it is.

Korrin: It's becoming clearer and clearer... as if he knows when I'm weak.

Selene: And that's why we train...

Selene said, coming up to stand next to him.

Selene: Today there is no mission. Today you will face yourself, like every week.

Korrin gave her a sidelong glance. He knew what she meant.

Korrin: Another round in the Spectral Chamber?

Selene: You asked for this regimen yourself. If you want to control that connection, you have to subdue it, not ignore it.

Hearing that, Korrin kept his journal under his jacket, as if it were his own armor.

Korrin: I know. I just... I need to not forget what made me human first.

Selene offered him a softer, but almost imperceptible look.

Selene: Then let that diary accompany you. But don't let it stop you.

Korrin nodded, with a gesture of dry resolve. He sat up fully, his footsteps echoing firmly on the metal floor.

Korrin: Take me to training hell, Vaelis.

Selene: As you wish, Commander.

Both walked down the corridor, into the bowels of the ship, toward a new confrontation.

Not with the enemy.

But with what was left of Korrin's past.