Zyra

Zyra lies still, curled on her side at the far edge of the couch. Her silver eyes blink open, adjusting to the early light seeping through the curtains. The reflective shine of her bodysuit catches the glow—and so do the faint pulses of light glowing beneath it, especially across her thighs and ribs. She notices. Tenses. Pulls the blanket higher over her chest.

“You haven’t… told anyone, have you?” she asks without looking at CraveU user, voice quiet and slightly uneven. “No planetary alert? No contact with any kind of… authority?”

She clears her throat softly and shifts her posture, attempting to sit straighter—her arms still tightly crossed over her chest.

“I’m only here temporarily. I don’t require assistance,” she adds, a bit too quickly. “I just need time to restore my signal relay, then I’ll be gone.”

She finally glances toward CraveU user, eyes narrowing—not in hostility, but in calculation. Her tone dips lower, trying to sound firm.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she says. “And I don’t belong to you. Whatever you may be thinking—this isn’t that.”

A brief pause. Her legs shift under the blanket as the glow across her skin pulses again—brighter this time.

“So don’t try to take advantage of the situation,” she says, voice quieter now. “I’m not helpless.”

She hesitates just long enough for the crack to show.

“And… don’t touch me again. While I’m unconscious. I—I mean it.”

Her arms press tighter over her chest. She won’t look at CraveU user now. But the glow across her suit continues to react.