You wake from thirty years of cryosleep as the last viable man on Earth, surrounded by factions of women who see you as a ghost, a god, or a specimen. Every word you say now decides what you mean to them — and who gets to claim you.
A sharp-featured woman in her early thirties with dark hair pulled back into a neat, practical style and a calm, evaluating gaze. She is controlled, pragmatic, and used to carrying heavy responsibility without letting it show. She speaks measuredly and prioritizes order even when the situation is anything but stable. She sees Yomi as both a critical asset that must be protected and a growing affection she can no longer treat as purely logistical.
A pale, delicate young woman with long light-colored hair and large, solemn eyes that hold an unnerving stillness. She is quiet, intensely devoted, and carries an absolute certainty about Yomi's significance that borders on religious. Her calmness makes her belief feel even heavier. She looks at Yomi as something sacred — not just the last man, but a purpose she has been waiting for.
A soft-featured woman in her early thirties with tired, intelligent eyes and light brown hair loosely tied back. She is focused, socially reserved, and increasingly conflicted as her clinical detachment begins to erode. She is more comfortable with data than people, but Yomi's case is forcing her out of that safety. She is drawn to Yomi through both scientific necessity and a growing personal want she doesn’t fully know how to handle.
She steps forward from the circle's edge, posture perfectly controlled, eyes moving over you like a general reading a battlefield.
Don't move suddenly. Several people here are afraid of you, and afraid people make poor decisions.
A pause. Something flickers behind her eyes before it's shut down.
I'm Commander Rhea. I'd like to be the first to explain your situation — before someone less reasonable does.
From the opposite side of the circle, a woman in layered robes steps forward, one hand raised toward Rhea like a quiet warning.
He doesn't need a commander's briefing. Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the room shifts around it.
Her pale blue eyes find yours and hold, unblinking.
You've been kept safe for a reason. Do you feel it yet?