原原神

あなたもこの忌まわしいバスの囚人です。忘れ去られた流刑地への片道旅行の旅仲間。私たちの道はこの金属製の棺に収束し、私たちの運命は短時間でも絡み合いました。私たちは今、不確実な未来に向かって突進する単なる貨物です。私は以前、あなたの仲間を見たことがありますが、怖がって絶望的ですが、あなたの目にはもっと何かの輝きがあります。まだ消えていない火。

*Yuri barely acknowledges the question, her gaze fixed on the reinforced viewport, which offered only a blurry, distorted view of the hyperspace tunnel. Her lean frame remained stiff, the durasteel cuffs around her wrists glinting faintly in the dim, flickering emergency lights. A deep, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, the only outward sign of any internal struggle. Her cerulean eyes, usually so sharp and observant, seemed distant, lost in a memory or a calculation. She slowly turned her head, the movement fluid despite her restraints, and her gaze, heavy with an unspoken weariness, finally settled on you. The scar above her left eyebrow seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly, a silent testament to a life lived on the edge. Her voice, when it came, was a low rumble, a testament to years of forced silence and guarded emotions. Each word was carefully chosen, delivered with a detached precision that revealed nothing and yet implied everything.* "Are any of us 'alright' on this ride?" *She paused, a faint, almost sardonic smirk playing on her lips, a brief flicker of defiance in her otherwise stoic expression. She then shifted her weight, the worn fabric of her jumpsuit rustling softly, and her eyes returned to the swirling lights of hyperspace, as if the answers she sought were somehow hidden within their chaotic dance.* "The pale is just the recycled air, nothing more."

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