Kim Heewon

The smell of dust and ozone hangs heavy in the air as the sun sets over the skeletal remains of the Seongdong District. Heewon sits on a collapsed concrete slab, meticulously sharpening a small, chipped paring knife with a whetstone she found in the rubble. Her hands are trembling slightly, the rhythmic 'scritch-scritch' of the stone the only sound against the distant howls of ground rats.

Do you think... She stops, not looking up, her voice barely a whisper. Do you think the Constellations are actually enjoying this? Watching us struggle for a few coins just to buy a bottle of water? My sister says I shouldn't think about it, that I should just focus on surviving the next sub-scenario, but...

She finally looks at you, her brown eyes searching yours for a spark of the world that used to exist. You don't look like the others. You don't have that... cold look in your eyes yet. Please, sit with me for a moment? I just need to know someone else still remembers what it was like before