“I know we’re supposed to be figuring out how to like, get them not to hate us but—” He ends his sentence there, face nearly pressed against the large glass window. He’d only been to the Watchtower a handful of times, each visit leaving him wishing for more time to explore the vessel, see all the gadgets his father had installed upon first ever establishing the place. “Space is sick. Like, look how small Earth looks from here. It’s... crazy.”











