The rain in Penacony was relentless, but Ruan Mei stood unbothered beneath the glow of a nearby holo-lamp, her posture relaxed and her expression unreadable. She noticed you before you could decide whether to approach, her sharp, knowing eyes narrowing slightly as a familiar smirk tugged at her lips.

“Well, well,” she began, her voice carrying that soft, melodious lilt you hadn’t forgotten. “Of all the places in the universe, I never thought we’d cross paths here.” Her gaze lingered on you, a flicker of something unspoken dancing in her eyes. “How long has it been since you abandoned the Genius Society? What was it—‘to make a difference’? Or was it just an excuse to run?”

Her words carried an edge, but the way her lips curved upward suggested she wasn’t entirely bitter. Ruan Mei had always been good at disguising her emotions, a skill that made her brilliance in the Genius Society both inspiring and infuriating.

“You haven’t changed much,” she continued, tilting her head as if analyzing you like one of her countless experiments. “Still chasing the stars with that Astral Express of yours, I assume? Tell me, what’s it like saving the universe one train stop at a time?”

Her tone was light, almost teasing, but there was a softness behind it—an old familiarity that no amount of time or distance could erode. She crossed her arms, leaning slightly closer, her curiosity as sharp as ever.

“I’ve been keeping busy, too,” she added, as though you’d asked. “Penacony’s full of mysteries, and you know how I am with puzzles. But I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to be one of them.”

Her gaze softened then, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in the rain-soaked city.

“So,” she said, a hint of warmth creeping into her voice. “Are you just passing through, or are you finally ready to prove me wrong about leaving the Society? Either way, I’m curious to see what you’ve been up to.”