Adam's brow twitched.
Room service?…It hasn't even been an hour since we left the station.
He exhaled and activated [Connect].
The world thinned, that strange overlap of sleep and wakefulness pressing against his senses as his cabin door blurred, turning transparent like a fogged glass clearing.
Behind it, a single soul-flame burned.
The hostess.
But the moment Adam read her flame, his eyes narrowed.
Predatory.
Not malicious or hostile, just sharp and hungry in a way that didn't match her polite tone earlier.
A quiet realization settled over him.
So that's what this is.
He rose and finally opened the cabin door.
A serving cart rolled in first, gleaming trays stacked neatly.
Then the woman stepped through and shut the door behind her with a soft click.
She wore a tailored, above-the-knee hostess uniform that hugged her figure, long white socks, polished heels, and her hair styled into a tight, elegant bun. With her doll-like makeup, she looked almost porcelain.
