The sky of the Death World was forever frozen in a lifeless hue of grayish-yellow. The thin atmosphere made the star's light exceptionally piercing, yet it failed to provide sufficient warmth. Whenever night fell, a chill would seep into every corner of the base; even within the climate-controlled interiors, one could feel the icy hostility emanating from the planet itself. The endless wind whipped up fine metallic slag, incessantly battering the base's outer composite armor with a monotonous, irritating rustle.
Asuka, dressed in a form-fitting standard base protective suit, walked alone through the sealed corridor connecting the hangar to the residential quarters. Through the high-strength observation windows, the scenery was unvarying: a dark, rocky landscape, scattered jagged stone hills, and in the distance, the Genesis Experimental Zone—slowly but surely losing its last streaks of green as it reverted to desolation. Since Osiris had transferred the core research of the Genesis Particles, this land that had briefly flourished with life was inevitably returning to dead silence.
Life within the base's residential sector was flawless in terms of survival—temperature, humidity, and air quality were maintained at optimal levels. Yet, the omnipresent sense of cold order, governed by the Adeptus Mechanicus's principles of peak efficiency, often left her with a sense of alienating detachment. Everywhere she looked, there were undecorated metal panels, screens flickering with never-ending data streams, and Tech-Priests and shambling servitors—most of whom had undergone extensive cybernetic augmentation—silently carrying out their directives.
"Do you still find it boring here?" He didn't turn around, his voice calm.
One evening, after finishing her training, Asuka encountered Osiris again, standing by the window in the corridor. He wasn't wearing his power armor, just simple fatigues, his gaze cast toward the wasteland being swallowed by the night.
"Hah... it's so monotonous it's hard to stay motivated." Asuka sighed, her forehead leaning gently against the cold glass of the observation window.
There was a lack of color here, a lack of unexpected sounds, and a lack of anything she remembered that could be called the "breath of life." If not for the rigorous daily simulated combat training, the learning of EVA-Titan maintenance, and the live-activation tests that allowed her to truly feel her own value, she feared she might fall ill from the sheer boredom of such an under-stimulated environment.
Still, she knew clearly that even if given a hundred more chances, she would still unhesitatingly follow Osiris away from that old world filled with pain and despair. It was just that she hadn't anticipated this "new world" would be so quiet and unchanging.
"At least it's better than the old world," she paused, "It's just... sometimes I feel like I've been forgotten in some corner."
"The universe is vast; it's more than just this one planet." His words were brief, but they sent a slight stir through Asuka's heart.
Asuka walked to his side, leaning her hands on the railing as he did. The hangar housing that massive, silent, dark-grey titan belonging to her was nearly the only corner of this desolate world where she felt at ease. It was the last tangible bond between her and her past, and the very meaning of her presence here.
In this monotonous routine, her scattered interactions with Osiris became rare moments of variety. In the base's cold, efficient cafeteria, food was precisely synthesized—nutritionally balanced but standardized in taste. Asuka usually sat alone in a corner to eat quickly. Sometimes, Osiris would appear across from her.
He still wore his heavy power armor, but he would usually unlock his helmet, revealing a face identical to his primary entity but with more warmth.
"I've looked over the training data. Your reaction time has improved, but your tactical choices could be more aggressive." He would comment in a calm tone while browsing his data slate.
"Quiet! In that situation, being conservative was the right call, wasn't it?" Asuka would snap back immediately, though there was no real anger in her eyes.
Osiris wouldn't argue with her; he would simply push the data slate toward her, highlighting a specific parameter in red. "Try this path; it might suit your style better." Then, he would silently accompany her through the rest of the meal, even though he usually only consumed specialized nutrient paste.
This silent companionship, to some extent, broke the monotony of a cafeteria filled only with the hum of operating servitors.
On the training grounds, besides simulated cockpit training for the EVA-Titan, physical conditioning and hand-to-hand combat were mandatory. When Asuka was sweating profusely while fighting against complexly programmed training servitors, Osiris would sometimes personally step onto the floor to guide her.
Even without his power armor, he remained an invincible force to Asuka, though most of the time he acted only in passive defense rather than active offense. After training sessions, he would sometimes hand her an energy supplement. The simple gesture made her feel that in this cold metallic world, there was still a sliver of "human" concern.
These scattered interactions were like faint splashes of color on a gray canvas. While they couldn't entirely dispel the sense of monotony surrounding her, they at least made her feel she wasn't drifting completely alone in this ocean of metal and rock. She could feel that Osiris's guidance wasn't just by the book, but was based on genuine observation of her characteristics and targeted adjustments.
After watching Asuka leave the corridor, Osiris turned toward the observation tower. Standing at the heights, his gaze instinctively followed that small figure once more, watching her walk alone through the tunnel toward the residential area, looking exceptionally solitary.
Almost at the same moment, a consciousness link connected with his primary entity far away on Necromunda.
"Asuka's spirits remain low; the environment of the death world is having a significant negative impact on her." The secondary avatar transmitted its direct feelings and observations.
He recalled the scene when he had taken Asuka away from the EVA world—the girl curled in a corner, crying. That image overlapped with the lonely silhouette walking away now. A sense of responsibility, born from his own emotions rather than logical calculation, welled up within him.
He had taken her out of hell, but that didn't mean casting her into a cold cage was the right thing to do.