The steady rumble of the engine filled the cabin, a constant companion to their journey. After the tension with the survivors had faded, a quieter, more focused energy took hold.
Aya, who had been quietly working in her designated corner of the mobile base, finally looked up, a rare, proud smile gracing her lips. She held up two sheathed daggers, their hilts sleek and minimalistic, perfectly matching Celestia's specifications.
"Celestia," Aya said, her voice soft but clear. "They're finished."
All conversation ceased. Celestia, who had been reviewing a map, set it aside with precise movements. She stood and approached Aya, accepting the proffered blades. Her usual icy composure didn't crack, but a keen, intense light ignited in her eyes.
She drew one of the daggers. The blade was a masterpiece of smithing, It was impossibly thin and light, yet the edge seemed to hum with latent sharpness. Celestia held it up, observing the balance.
