[Aetheris — Celestial Estate]
The capsule room was silent.
The capsule sat in the center of the room, its surface smooth and white, its glass lid fogged with condensation from the inside. Soft blue lights pulsed along its base, steady and rhythmic, the only sign that the machine was still functioning, still monitoring, still waiting.
Isabella von Celestial sat in the chair beside it.
Her hands were folded in her lap, pale and thin, the knuckles white where she gripped her own fingers. Her platinum-silver hair, once soft and shining, hung dull and limp around her shoulders, strands escaping from the braid she had stopped bothering to fix days ago.
Her emerald eyes were fixed on the capsule, the fogged glass. The vague shape of the body within.
She looked older than she was.
