Silver Wolf fiddled around with the control panel of Firefly's medical pod. After a moment, she heard a soft hiss, and the glass lid opened. The inside was sufficiently cushioned, allowing the one using it to sleep comfortably.
Sparks danced around Firefly's form as a silver and black plugsuit closed around her athletic frame, leaving far too little to the animations. A deep frown creased Silver Wolf's face, but she ignored her thoughts as the fairy-like girl stepped into the pod. After a few moments of shifting, Firefly spoke:
"I'm good."
With that, Silver Wolf pressed a button on the control panel, and the clear lid of the medical pod closed shut. Firefly's gaze seemed absent as she stared at the glass, perhaps looking at her own reflection.
The control panel's lights flashed as different vitals were recorded and displayed. Silver Wolf mostly ignored them, considering an Ascended Titan like Firefly would have little to no health problems — any that she did have could never be the mundane kind.
The medical pod had been modified to run on an AI Silver Wolf herself produced, which meant that it could detect things some of the best hospitals in the cosmos couldn't. At least, not without directly witnessing the symptoms.
What Firefly had, for instance, was not something observable to the naked eye. The medical pod had to detect and measure her brain signals and hormonal activity, while simultaneously deducing why her mental fluctuations were so odd. There was also the matter of her irregular biology...
It wasn't that the Stellaron Hunters needed a device to detect Firefly's illness. Elio dealt with that. But they needed one to both slow down her decay, while also predicting how much time she had left.
Naturally, the results weren't pretty. Silver Wolf scowled to herself, then walked away from the panel. Instead, she banged on the glass lid.
"Hey!"
She felt a shameful hint of joy when the patient jumped within the medical pod, eyes wide and locked onto her, watching for even the slightest movement.
Silver Wolf's lip twitched at the reaction.
"What about 'two hours a day' do you not understand?"
Firefly's wide gaze lingered on Silver Wolf for a few moments, before relaxing slightly.
"...Ah, my bad. It's, um... but I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me."
In response, she was sent a dirty look.
"Who's worried about you? Just kick the bucket already."
Silver Wolf harrumphed as she turned around, walking back over to the control panel. She ignored Firefly's fond smile, as she went through the sleep protocol.
...A minute later, Firefly's eyes were dazed, on the verge of dreamless sleep. Silver Wolf turned around, ready to leave—
"Night, Silvie..."
She didn't say it back.
Instead, she turned her head towards the desk. Many memories were made in this room — though, most of them didn't involve her. Rather, they revolved around the self-destructive bond between a hollowed bundle of regret and a girl more machine than human.
Neither existed anymore.
Silver Wolf peeked at Firefly, seeing the girl's eyes peacefully shut. Perhaps it was a blessing for her to be unable to dream. She'd have nothing but nightmares.
...Or maybe she'd accept that, just to see another life. Maybe she'd abandon this reality to live that life, no matter how false it really was.
...Not that any of that mattered to Silver Wolf at the moment. As she reached the desk, she sneered at the crumbs remaining on Firefly's plate. She picked up the piece of porcelain, about to leave the room without a second thought.
But her eyes were drawn to that damned photo.
The photo of that Fateful day...
***
The shadow clicked his tongue.
"Come on, cheer up. People are supposed to be happy at the beach... according to some."
"This place is infested."
"With crabs, not maneating bugs. Uh... forget I said that, sorry. How about this?"
"Spit it out."
"Kafka said that taking pictures can cheer you up. I don't really believe her, but if you want?"
"...Just be quick."
"Yeah, yeah..."
"..."
"...Lady, you call that a smile?"
"You weren't even trying."
"I... well, sure. Sorry, it was a stupid idea."
"I want it."
"Huh?"
"I want to keep the photograph."
"...Why?"
"Do you want me to throw you into the water again?"
"...No."
"Good."
"...Hey."
"What now?"
"Kafka brought some cake or something for later."
"...Cake?"
"I have no clue either."
"..."
"...Want to steal some?"
"...Just don't drag me down."
***
Silver Wolf's knuckles were white as bone as she clenched the picture, but she didn't allow it to break. A sharp intake of breath...
What could she have done? If she had just paid attention. If she had just been there to prevent their downwards spiral...
But she was there. She had been right there.
'If our positions were switched...'
Would she have been any better?
Or would the only change be in her cause?
Two people. A young teen with messy black hair, pale skin, and deep bags under his eyes as if he was unable to properly sleep. A woman with short silver hair, not reaching below her chin, and anomalous sunset eyes. She wore a headband in her hair.
The former's lips were set into a straight line. The latter bared her teeth like a rabid animal, eye seemingly mid-twitch. Behind them, beyond the patches of grass, was a shoreline, outlining the edge of the vast sea before them. it was not quite night yet, but two moons could be seen in hanging in the sky.
Gritting her teeth, Silver Wolf set the photo down. She ran out, straight to the fashion showcase Kafka called a room, and opened a drawer. Within it was a bag of homemade cookies.
Silver Wolf snatched the cookies, left the room, then dropped her phone on a couch. A flash of light... and she was gone.
When she reappeared, she was already speaking.
"Yo, du— what the fuck?"
Despite his circus-like maneuvers, her eyes were locked onto only one thing.
'So that's where the height went...'