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The Astral Express is big, bigger than Sunday had thought it would be. The halls feel endless, windows lining them at nearly every turn. He watches the stars as they pass them by, wondering just how far Penacony is behind him already.
“Are you enjoying the Express so far?” Welt’s voice appears suddenly, but the only indication of Sunday’s surprise is the way his wings flutter back, then still.
Sunday turns to him, eyes shifting over Welt’s details before they fall to his face. He lets himself smile—a small, tiny thing that’s practically barely there.
“Yes,” he says softly, turning to peer back out the large window. “It’s lovely here.”
The words may seem nearly disingenuous, but Sunday means them. Quiet follows, before he slowly turns to Welt again, who stares out into the vast space just outside the glass.
“Mr. Yang…”
“Please,” Welt smiles as their gazes meet. “Just Welt is fine. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
Friends.
A concept that’s still foreign to Sunday. His mouth opens for a brief moment, before it closes and he nods, looking back out as the Express trailblazes by a planet.
“Yes. We are friends,” Sunday says, smile twitching, “Mr. Welt.”