Paul leaned back, dark complexion blending with the dim corner, his glass shards orbiting in a lazy spiral. "Could be worse," he said, voice smooth but tired, popping a crumb into his mouth. "B Block's rations are half this." His shards glinted, catching a guard's eye at the retinal scanner near the door.
Junijo slouched beside him, lanky frame hunched, blue-streaked hair falling into his eyes. His chameleon Ikona clung to his arm, shifting from purple to gray, its nervous eyes darting. He poked the porridge, spoon trembling, and muttered, "Barely worth the points." His tray rattled as he shifted, boots scuffing the floor.
Tidwell grinned, sprawled in his chair, tossing a bread chunk and catching it. "Points, huh? Bet I could trade this slop for a system quest." His cloud Ikona drifted above, wisps curling like smoke, its fluffy form belying the tension in his grip. He flicked his eyes to a guard, who muttered to another, "Elara's kill was one of seven—system's chewing through us."
