Back aboard the ship, we waited while nibbling on the snacks prepared by Jazzia. The warm scent of spices contrasted with the Earth fruits I described to her, some displayed on the table like small memories of my planet. Time passed slowly, until Julis called Tariel and asked her to follow her.

  She gave me an anxious, almost childlike look, as if silently asking for help when the robot began to guide her.

  “I’ll be with you the whole time, Tariel,” I promised, standing and going to her.

  The capsule was already open at the center of the vast, intensely lit room. It was strange: it seemed too small inside that gigantic space, almost too clinical for Tariel’s fragility. Julis gestured for me to place her on the padded surface, which resembled a table with a transparent lid.

  This time, she didn’t raise her arms to me; she was embarrassed, too vulnerable. When I lifted her into my arms, I pressed her against my chest and kissed her face. I did it on impulse — and to distract her from the growing fear, so she would know I would be there when she woke.

  “We’re going to remove these clothes,” Julis warned, stepping closer to help with the dress.

  Naked again, Tariel lay on her back. Julis gently held her chin.

  “Open your mouth.”

  She examined her teeth with almost mechanical precision.

  “Perfect,” she concluded. “We won’t need to remove them.”

  Tariel’s eyes widened. I chuckled softly, thinking Julis was joking, but quickly realized there was no humor there. If they had been in bad condition, they would have been pulled out. Xerantos did not share the same reservations as humans.

  “You may feel a slight prick,” Julis warned as she positioned the thick needle against her neck. “It’s just to insert the catheter.”

  “That hurt,” Tariel complained, in such a spontaneous way that it drew laughter from everyone.

  “Now I’m going to close the capsule. You’ll fall asleep, and the machine will use your DNA to regenerate everything that’s wrong.”

  The transparent lid descended slowly. Her gaze before sleeping pierced me — fear, anxiety, and a fragile trust placed in me. I should have prepared her for what was coming, but I didn’t want to make her even more nervous.

  Soon her body began to oscillate between temporal phases — visible one instant, translucent the next.

  “It will take time,” Zircon commented. “For her body, days. For us, about three hours.”

  “Then how about a snack while we wait?”

  The Xerantos accepted enthusiastically. It was tournament season on the Shoros, and the Sekvens would be participating — a topic that excited even those who rarely showed emotion.

  “When we return, take Tariel to watch,” Julis suggested.

  “At the last event we lost to the Sekvens. They’re more agile, but they only have twice the strength of a human,” Zircon commented. “We should have won.”

  “But we didn’t,” Julis snapped, sulking.

  I said I’d gladly take Tariel, and we continued talking. I always appreciated how the Xerantos remembered to include me in their comparisons, respecting my origins.

  The hours passed quickly, until Jazzia warned us: the capsule required attention.

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  Tariel already had her eyes open, but she couldn’t move. Julis activated the opening.

  “Tariel, you still won’t be able to move. But it’s quick,” she explained.

  When the capsule opened completely, I saw her… and the impact hit me like a blow that was both gentle and devastating.

  Joy.

  Awe.

  Fear.

  I took two steps back without realizing it.

  “What is it?” Tariel noticed, moving only her neck.

  I controlled myself. Smiled. Her voice brought me relief. I took her hand.

  “For a moment… I was afraid.”

  My eyes ran over her new body: the skin that had once been pale and marked was now firm, luminous; the feet and hands, once injured, looked newborn; her entire body had gained an almost imperceptible layer of white down; and her hair… fell long, almost to her hips.

  And her ears had been restored.

  “I didn’t expect you to be so beautiful,” I admitted. “I was afraid of losing you.”

  I brought her hair forward so she could see.

  “Your hair is white. Beautifully white.”

  She widened her eyes, sat up impulsively, brought her hands to her own hair — Julis held her to ensure she had balance.

  “I can’t believe it! It grew here too,” she pointed to the subtle hairs on her skin.

  Zircon approached.

  “Can you walk? Your legs and ears are perfect now.”

  “Come. Let’s go to the mirror,” I offered, extending my hand.

  Tariel walked with an ease that surprised me. When she saw her own reflection, she stood still for a few seconds. Then she turned to me, trembling, and hugged me.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s not me. I was never like this.”

  I kissed the top of her head, holding her against my chest.

  “You’re seeing how it should have been, not what they did to you.”

  When she finally looked at herself again, I could see in her eyes the mix of recognition and strangeness. I ran my hand over her shoulder, feeling the soft texture of the fine hairs.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, then repeated it to the others.

  “Don’t cry,” I asked, feeling my own chest tighten. “May I… do what I feel like doing?”

  She waited for me to say something — but I simply held her tightly and cried with her.

  Perhaps there I understood, for the first time, the strength of the Sekvens’ love: the ability to unite species, save lives already almost extinguished, rebuild them and return them to the universe.

  I also realized that, in a little more than a day, I had met someone… and I loved her.

  After helping her get dressed, Julis explained:

  “We’re going to tell you some things we discovered in your DNA.”

  Sitting on the gurney, Tariel rubbed her feet.

  “They’re cold.”

  “Your skin is no longer thick. You’ll need footwear,” Julis said.

  She then began listing the characteristics: the skin that darkened in the light and lightened in the dark, the fine hairs that grew or disappeared with temperature, the absence of sweat, eyes that required artificial hydration. And the most delicate point: her reproductive immaturity.

  “Selium only mature when they find a partner. And now that you have Willian…”

  Tariel was touching her own skin, examining it, when I interrupted Julis:

  “Wait… are we compatible?”

  “Sexually, yes. Procreation, no. We still don’t know how to solve that.”

  Tariel looked at me, surprised.

  “So Willian and I… are we married?”

  “You already belong to him,” Julis replied. “In human culture, that would already be a marriage.”

  A shiver ran through my body. I knew it — ever since AX stated that she belonged to me — but hearing it explained like that affected me. I already had difficulties even with relationships within my own species… Would I be able to give Tariel what she would need? What if I hurt her? There were no alternatives. Slowly, I caressed her hand, trying to convey safety and affection.

  “None of this forces you into anything. But the Universe already sees us as a couple. And maybe we truly are.”

  “It makes no sense to postpone what can be felt now,” Julis warned seriously. “But your mind is still wounded. You repress memories. AX will continue to help you sleep. And the Sekvens will come when the DNA study is finished.”

  Tariel’s eyes widened.

  “They’re going to come… see me?”

  “Of course. You belong to them,” Julis replied. “They will adjust their minds to yours.”

  Her fear was visible.

  “It sounds complicated.”

  I knew it was more than complicated — it was dangerous even for the Sekvens. But they would do it anyway. For her.

  “Until then,” Julis continued, “if you feel fear, shortness of breath, tremors, anxiety… use Willian. His embrace will help. But you can go beyond the embrace, if you wish.”

  Tariel looked at me, trying to decipher what I felt.

  “I’ll always be by your side,” I promised.

  She smiled, shyly.

  “Thank you. All of you.”

  “Is she a little chubbier?” I asked, noticing her rounder shoulders.

  “Three kilos more,” Julis confirmed. “Ideal weight. Ah, Tariel, your hair is enormous. I’ll cut it a bit…”

  “No!” she protested, drawing laughter. “Leave it like this!”

  Julis touched her groin.

  “Then ask your partner to trim here. Xerantos don’t have it, but humans and Sekvens appreciate it.”

  Night was falling when the Mirtis took off. Before we left, Julis showed her the clothes, the combs, taught Tariel how to use a toothbrush. Zircon left supplies and the capsule for future use.

  The universe seemed larger — and Tariel, reborn, finally seemed ready to inhabit it.