Ark Simulator, don't I have no physical form?

Volume 19, Chapter 1334: I am thinking

He silently walked to the counter, pulled out a bar stool, and sat down. His movements were fluid and natural, as if he hadn't noticed Eyjafjalla's embarrassment or smelled the faint, lingering burnt smell in the air.

Eyjafjalla secretly glanced up and saw that Suri didn't "comment" on her failed cooking. She breathed a slight sigh of relief and quickly pushed one of the bowls of milk oatmeal in front of Suri, then handed him the spoon. She forced a somewhat stiff smile on her face: "Try it? The milk is hot and the oatmeal is ready to eat, so it shouldn't be too bad."

Suri (in lamb form) took the spoon but didn't move immediately. Instead, she looked at the oatmeal soaking in the warm milk in the bowl, which had begun to swell slightly, and calmly stated: "Oatmeal (instant type) soaked in milk (whole milk, pasteurized). Procedure: Mix the two ingredients in an appropriate ratio. Technical complexity: zero. Nutritional composition: carbohydrates, protein, fat, some vitamins and minerals, meeting the basic needs of breakfast. Taste expectation: non-irritating, highly acceptable."

His assessment, as always, was objective, calm, and... utterly unsurprising. Simply put: this thing is easy to make, edible, and non-toxic, but that's about it.

Eyjafjalla's cheeks flushed even more as she listened, and she muttered softly, "I... I also wanted to try frying eggs and toasting bread... but it seems I didn't get the heat right..." Her gaze couldn't help but drift back to the trash can, her expression becoming even more frustrated.

Suri (in lamb form) finally picked up the spoon, scooped up a spoonful of milk and oatmeal, put it in his mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Throughout the entire process, his expression remained unchanged, as if he were not eating food, but some kind of sample that needed to be analyzed.

“Acceptable.” He gave his final assessment, then continued to eat the oatmeal in his bowl calmly, spoonful by spoonful, his movements as precise as if he were performing a set procedure.

Eyjafjalla watched as Suri ate the simple, even somewhat rudimentary, breakfast she had prepared, her initial frustration at her cooking failure gradually replaced by a mix of warmth, apology, and a touch of amusement. That's just how Suri was; he wouldn't complain about the simplicity of the food, nor would he mock her failure. He would simply accept the outcome directly and offer the most objective evaluation.

She picked up her spoon and began eating her bowl of oatmeal. The warm milk soaked the softened oatmeal, making it smooth to the taste, with the natural aroma of grains and the richness of milk. The taste was indeed not bad, but... it was a bit too monotonous and "healthy".

The two ate their extremely simple breakfast in silence. Eyjafjalla wanted to say something several times, such as "I'll definitely do better tomorrow," or "Actually, I can learn," but seeing Suri's calm way of eating, she swallowed her words.

After finishing his meal, Suri (in his sheep form) put down his spoon, picked up a napkin and wiped the corners of his mouth (although his mouth was as clean as the rim of the bowl). Then, his gaze swept over the trash can again, looked at the empty oat bowl, and finally landed on Eyjafjalla's still slightly apprehensive pink eyes.

“According to data model analysis based on available food consumption and takeout services, the average household cooking skill level in Colombia is declining. The proportion of prepared food and dining out is increasing.” Suri calmly began, uttering a series of data that seemed unrelated to the scene before her.

Eyjafjalla blinked, not quite understanding why Suri suddenly brought this up.

Suri (in lamb form) paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts for easier understanding, then looked at Eyjafjalla and continued in his calm, even tone:

"Therefore, expectations for 'cooking' should be adjusted accordingly. Simple, safe, and repeatable preparation methods are superior to complex methods with high failure rates and potential health risks (such as burnt products)."

He pointed to the empty oatmeal bowl in front of him and then gestured with his eyes to the trash can.

"Oatmeal soaked in milk meets the criteria of 'simple, safe, and repeatable.' It's acceptable."

His meaning is clear: given the average cooking skills of Colombians (and possibly Eyjafjallajökull), and the potential risks of kitchen accidents (such as burnt bread and fried eggs), simple but safe foods like oatmeal in milk are an acceptable breakfast choice. In fact, it might be a better choice.

Eyjafjalla understood. Suri was comforting her in his uniquely rational, almost cold way, while also setting a "reasonable" expectation for the breakfasts she might cook in the future—don't expect too much, just something simple, safe, and filling.

Looking at Su Rui's calm and composed face, the frustration she felt from her failed cooking suddenly vanished, replaced by a helpless, wry smile and a faint warmth. Su Rui wouldn't say, "It's okay, try again next time," nor would he say, "I really like it," but he would tell her in his own way, "This is also possible, and might even be better."

"Okay..." Eyjafjalla replied softly, but couldn't help but smile slightly. "Then... from now on, will breakfast be simpler?"

Suri (in his sheep form) nodded almost imperceptibly, acknowledging the "simplified breakfast" plan. He stood up, walked to the sink, and naturally began washing the bowls and spoons he had used.

Eyjafjalla quickly got up and started clearing her dishes. Looking at Suri's tall and calm back, she made a silent resolution: breakfast could be simple, but in other aspects, she had to do better, adapt to life here more quickly, study harder, and become... at least a decent roommate (or, a potential future partner?) who could make things a little easier for Suri.

The simple, warm feeling of fullness from milk and oatmeal dispelled the last trace of morning laziness. Sunlight streamed through the restaurant's floor-to-ceiling windows, shining brightly on the gleaming wooden dining table and illuminating the almost invisible dust particles slowly rising and falling in the air.

Eyjafjalla placed the washed and dried bowls and spoons into the drainer, watching Suri (in his sheep form) stand by the window, his gaze seemingly fixed on the distance, or perhaps simply processing a stream of information that only he could "see." The minor "crisis" in the kitchen earlier regarding breakfast standards had passed, and the atmosphere had returned to that familiar tranquility, imbued with Suri's characteristic detachment.

But Eyjafjalla knew that Suri's "quietness" often meant deeper thinking, or that she was waiting for the right moment to bring up certain topics that she considered "necessary".

Volume 19, page 1335: The goal of all this

Sure enough, when Eyjafjalla dried her hands, took off her apron, and walked to Suri's side, Suri's calm and even voice rang out, the topic direct and abrupt:

"You need to understand the core operating logic of Columbia's higher education system."

Eyjafjalla was taken aback, not expecting Suri to bring this up suddenly. She nodded subconsciously, her pink eyes fixed intently on Suri, waiting for him to continue. She knew Suri rarely spoke nonsense; if he brought it up, he must think it was important.

Suri (in lamb form) kept his gaze fixed on the window, as if staring at the looming spires of the Trimont University City, or perhaps trying to pierce through the surface and analyze the social structure behind them. His voice was steady and clear, as if he were describing a system that had already been modeled:

"At present, Colombian higher education institutions, especially top institutions such as the National University of Colombia and Trimont University, follow two main sets of rules in the allocation of core resources and individual career advancement channels."

"First, establish and maintain positive connections with those who control resources. In a university environment, this usually manifests as a 'mentor' or a senior scholar with actual projects, funding, and recommendation authority. There are various ways to establish positive connections, including but not limited to: demonstrating compliance, providing emotional value, participating in their private affairs, or showing direct support for their academic/personal goals. Simply put, cultivating a good relationship with your mentor is the most effective way to obtain high-quality academic resources, research opportunities, available positions, and, most importantly, letters of recommendation."

"Second, individuals become scarce resource nodes. That is, individuals demonstrate value far exceeding their peers and irreplaceable in a specific academic field. This usually means extremely high talent, extreme effort, or a combination of both, producing influential research results. When an individual's value is scarce enough, resources will naturally tilt towards them, the importance of mentorship relationships will relatively decrease, and they may even become objects of competition."

He paused, seemingly giving Eyjafjalla time to process this information. Then, he added a crucial sentence:

"Letters of recommendation are crucial credentials connecting higher education and subsequent career development. For graduate school applications, especially top programs, strong letters of recommendation from renowned scholars often carry more weight than standardized test scores and undergraduate transcripts. For employment, particularly in academia, large research institutions, or specific high-end industries, letters of recommendation from professors are equally important."

Eyjafjalla listened intently, her pink brows furrowing slightly. Suri's analysis was calm and insightful, dissecting the seemingly pure temple of knowledge at university into an arena of competition for resources, connections, and values. This differed significantly from her previous, more simplistic academic image. But she also understood that what Suri said was likely reality.

“So,” Eyjafjalla pondered, then slowly said, “I either have to work hard to get along well with my future mentor, or… become exceptionally good at geology, so good that others have no choice but to acknowledge me?”

“Yes.” Suri (in sheep form) gave a brief affirmation, then turned around, his dark eyes calmly looking at Eyjafjalla, adding a crucial point, “However, for you, the necessity of obtaining a ‘letter of recommendation’ for career advancement is close to zero.”

Eyjafjalla was taken aback: "...Huh?"

Suri's tone remained flat, as if stating a fact of equal weight to "the weather is nice today": "The assets and resources I currently possess are sufficient to support you in living however you wish, without having to consider the economic returns of a traditional career path. Therefore, you do not need to deliberately cater to your mentor or excessively exploit yourself in order to 'stand out' academically for a 'job' or 'income'."

He spoke so matter-of-factly, so calmly, as if "possessing enough wealth to make people not need to work" was the most ordinary thing imaginable. Eyjafjalla's heart skipped a beat at those words. A complex warmth welled up inside her, a mixture of gratitude, reassurance, and a hint of... bewilderment.

Suri provided her with absolute material security, a stable "safe haven" where she wouldn't have to worry about making a living. This was undoubtedly a tremendous blessing, something she could never have dreamed of when she was struggling on the streets of Cumberland. But the question that followed was: if she didn't need to worry about survival and her future, why did she go to university to study geology?

Is it merely because she's "interested"? In Colombia, a society that highly commodifies knowledge and tightly links academic qualifications with career prospects, how should the value and meaning of pure "interest" and "the pursuit of knowledge" be measured after stripping away the most practical purpose of "making a living"? Can she still bear the potentially heavy academic pressure? When her classmates are all desperately competing for grades, for the favor of their professors, and for future job opportunities, how should she, this special individual who "doesn't need to work," position herself?

These questions, like bubbles suddenly appearing, churned in her mind.

Suri seemed to sense her confusion, but he offered no guidance or advice, simply gazing at her calmly, awaiting her answer. He provided choices, he offered security, but he never made the choices for her.

Eyjafjalla remained silent for a long time. The restaurant was so quiet that the rustling of leaves in the wind outside the window and the occasional, indistinct background sounds of the city could be heard. Sunlight danced on the tips of her silver hair, illuminating her long, slightly drooping eyelashes.

Her thoughts drifted back to Cumberland County. There, the gloomy skies, the damp streets, the faint scent of Originium dust in the air, and the destructive, raging power buried deep underground, ready to erupt at any moment. Natural disasters were the sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of all living beings on Terra, the root of the tragic fates of countless ordinary people like her. Her parents, everything she knew from her childhood, were all swallowed up in that sudden, violent geological upheaval.

She studied geology, perhaps initially only to understand the force that had taken everything from her, to find some kind of "answer" or "soothing" in those cold rocks and stratigraphic records. But as time went by, and as her reading deepened, a vague idea gradually took shape in her mind, becoming clearer and stronger.

She raised her head, the previous confusion in her pink eyes gradually fading, replaced by a clear, resolute determination with a stubborn glint in them. Looking at Su Rui, she spoke earnestly, word by word:

Volume 19, Chapter 1336: The Geologist Little Lamb

“Suri, thank you. I know that with you by my side, I don’t have to worry about the future, I don’t have to find a job, and I don’t even have to go to university.”

She paused, took a deep breath, as if gathering her strength, and spoke the long-held desire that had lingered in her heart:

"But I still want to study geology. Not just because I like it, and not just because I want to get a diploma."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear, carrying a stubborn strength that seemed out of place with her usual gentle demeanor.

"I want to understand why the earth gets angry, how natural disasters are formed, and whether it's possible to... know in advance when they will come and where they will come from."

"I want to become a geologist who can predict natural disasters."

The moment she uttered those words, Eyjafjalla felt something gently settle in her heart. It wasn't a boastful declaration made on a whim, but a real seed deeply hidden within her, nourished by the pain of Cumberland and catalyzed by the sense of security given to her by Suri.

She didn't want to be just a carefree dependent protected by Suri. She wanted her own power, to confront in her own way the colossal entity called "natural disaster" that had taken everything from her and still threatened countless others. Predicting natural disasters sounded like an unattainable, almost arrogant dream, especially in a place like Columbia where academia was highly utilitarian. But she wanted to try. Suri gave her the opportunity and the confidence to try.

Suri (in lamb form) listened quietly. Her dark eyes calmly reflected the mixture of innocence and determination on Eyjafjalla's face, and the light that shone in her eyes. There was no praise, no encouragement, and no questioning. She simply accepted her words calmly, as if receiving a new piece of information.

After a few seconds of silence, Su Rui nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Target confirmed: In-depth study of geology, with a focus on theories and technologies related to natural disaster prediction. Priority: High."

His response remained characteristically procedural. He dissected, categorized, and prioritized Eyjafjalla's emotionally charged and idealistic declaration, incorporating it into his vast model of future planning for the individual "Eyjafjalla."

"Based on this goal," Su Rui continued, her tone still steady, "the necessity of accessing high-quality educational resources has increased. Establishing effective connections with senior researchers (mentors) in relevant fields, or achieving a sufficiently scarce level of expertise in the field, is an effective way to accelerate the achievement of this goal. Letters of recommendation, as proof of connection, still have their instrumental value, but their purpose has shifted from 'employment' to 'access to better research platforms, project participation opportunities, and academic influence.'"

He redefined the meaning of "letters of recommendation" for Eyjafjalla—no longer for finding a job, but for getting closer to the goal of "predicting natural disasters" more quickly and effectively.

Eyjafjalla nodded vigorously. Suri's understanding and support (albeit in his unique way) dispelled the last vestige of uncertainty in her heart. Her goal became clear: to enter Columbia University's Geosciences Institute, learn the most cutting-edge geological knowledge, and find a possible path to "natural disaster prediction."

"Then... what should I do?" Eyjafjalla asked, her pink eyes filled with curiosity. "My foundation isn't very strong. How can I get a good mentor to teach me, or... how can I become 'rare'?"

Suri (in lamb form) lowered his gaze slightly, seemingly searching and analyzing something rapidly. After a moment, he raised his head:

"At this stage, the primary task is to bridge the gap in basic disciplines and pass the entrance exam. The Columbia Geosciences entrance exam covers basic mathematics, physics, chemistry, general geology, and an introduction to Originium theory. You already have some knowledge, but it lacks systematicity and your application skills are weak."

He went to the living room, picked up the old touchscreen phone, quickly tapped it a few times, and then handed it to Ayjafjalla.

The screen displays a detailed and categorized list of study plans, from reference books and online course links to practice question sets, mock test arrangements, and even suggested daily study time and progress milestones. It is densely packed and clearly organized.

"This is a preliminary study plan optimized based on your current knowledge level, the admission requirements of your target universities, and your future professional development path. Please follow this plan for the next four weeks. I will provide necessary guidance and resource support."

Eyjafjalla took the phone and looked at the detailed, almost rigorous plan on the screen. Far from feeling pressured, she felt a sense of reassurance, a feeling of grounded security. With a goal, a path, and Suri's help, the rest was up to her own efforts.

"Yes!" She nodded emphatically, clutching her phone to her chest as if it were a precious treasure, her pink eyes shining with determination. "I will try my best, Su Rui! I will definitely not let you down!"

Suri (in sheep form) watched her energetic demeanor, data silently streaming through his dark eyes. He didn't respond to the "don't disappoint me" statement, but calmly reminded her:

"Learning efficiency and sustainability are better than simply accumulating time. Pay attention to rest and nutrition. Now, let's execute the first item of today's plan: Basic Mathematics Review, Chapter One."

His words pulled Eyjafjalla back to reality from her daydreams about the future. Dreams are grand, but the path must be taken step by step, and the first step begins with this detailed study plan, starting with the most basic mathematical formulas.

Eyjafjalla took a deep breath, picked up her phone, and walked towards her small study area in the corner of the living room. Outside the window, the sunlight shone brightly, illuminating her open notebook and the screen of her phone displaying a densely packed study plan.

Suri (in lamb form) returned to the window, her gaze seemingly fixed on the distance once more. However, this time, deep within her calm eyes, the flowing data seemed to have been subtly updated with new parameters—a probability assessment of "natural disaster prediction," information on researchers at Columbia University's Geosciences Institute, and how to pave a clearer, more feasible path for the girl beside him with her seemingly unrealistic dreams.

The seeds of their dreams had been sown, while cold analysis and planning served as the soil and support necessary for their growth. In the early summer morning light of Tremont, a new, tacit understanding about the future quietly formed between the two.

Volume 19, Chapter 1337: Jessica?

The words on the pages crawled before Eyjafjalla's eyes like countless ants. Sunlight streamed through the French windows, warmly bathing her open "Introduction to Basic Geology" and a pile of draft paper filled with formulas, but it couldn't dispel the lingering sense of unease that was gradually rising in her heart.

Suri's study plan for her was rigorous and efficient, dividing the four weeks into precise blocks, each corresponding to specific knowledge points and practice questions. Eyjafjalla studied diligently and could indeed feel her weak foundation being solidified at a visible pace. Those once obscure geological terms and physical formulas gradually became clear under Suri's concise, almost ruthless, yet always to the core of her explanations.

But after several days of staying indoors from morning till night, facing books and screens, even the intellectually curious Eyjafjalla began to feel a kind of mental fatigue and a sense of being confined to a small space. The villa was spacious and comfortable, and the lawn in the backyard shone brightly green in the sunlight, but after looking at it for a while, it felt like something was missing. Something missing… a sense of human presence? Or perhaps, a lack of the feeling of “life”?

She put down her pen, rubbed her slightly sore eyes, and her gaze involuntarily drifted towards the second floor. Su Rui (in her lamb form) was still in his "workroom" today, only briefly appearing at lunchtime. After finishing his strictly nutritionally balanced, bland but supposedly "highly efficient" liquid diet, she went back inside. In the quiet villa, only the low hum of the central air conditioning and the rustling of her turning pages filled the air.

A little…bored. Eyjafjalla silently admitted to herself. It wasn't that she was tired of studying, but she craved a change, a little bit of novelty—the chance to leave this house with Suri and immerse herself in the outside world. The awkward incident with Senior Renata last time, and the chaotic street fight outside the café afterwards, still cast a shadow, but it had faded considerably. Besides, even though something had happened at the "Oak" café, Trimont was so big; surely there were other quiet, safe places suitable for reading, right?

Once the thought took hold, it was impossible to suppress. Eyjafjalla closed the book, stood up, did a few stretches, and then tiptoed upstairs to the second floor, knocking on the door of the "workshop."

"Go in." Su Rui's calm and even voice came through.

Eyjafjalla pushed open the door and saw Suri (in his sheep form) sitting in front of multiple screens, his fingers flying across a virtual keyboard, displaying dazzling streams of data and complex 3D models. Hearing the door open, he stopped, turned around, and looked at her calmly with his dark eyes, as if asking, "What is it?"

“Suri,” Eyjafjalla walked up to him, her tone a mix of tentative inquiry and obvious expectation, “I… I’m feeling a bit bored and want to change the environment for reading. Can we… go out and find a coffee shop to sit in? Just nearby, I know a place that’s been said to be quite quiet and not too crowded.”

Afraid that Su Rui would refuse, she quickly added, "I promise I won't bother you! You can do your thing, and I'll just read a book next to you. It'll be absolutely quiet! Besides... staying at home all the time isn't good for your eyes, right?" She found a reason that she thought was very convincing.

Suri (in lamb form) lingered on Eyjafjalla's face for two seconds, seemingly quickly assessing the veracity of her "feeling bored" emotional state, as well as the potential disturbances and risks of going out. A few seconds later, he nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Okay. Where?"

Eyjafjalla's eyes lit up, and she quickly gave the name and address of a coffee shop she had noticed while browsing reviews on the nearby community forum. It was said to have a quiet environment, good snacks, and most importantly—the prices were also quite high, which should effectively filter out most of the noisy customers.

Half an hour later, the two were already seated in a café called "Quiet Time." The ambiance was indeed as described in the reviews—more secluded and elegant than the previous "Oak" café. Located deep within a quiet alley, the decor was retro and dark, surrounded by books, with soft lighting and the air filled with the mixed aroma of coffee beans and old books. In the afternoon, there were indeed few customers, only two or three scattered tables, where people were quietly reading or working.

Eyjafjalla found a booth by the window, partially surrounded by tall bookshelves, and ordered a hot cocoa and a chocolate lava cake. She then eagerly spread out her geology textbook and notes. In a different setting, even the tedious task of classifying rocks seemed a little more interesting.

Suri (in his sheep form) ordered a freshly squeezed orange juice (room temperature) as usual, then took out his seemingly ordinary old phone. His fingers swiped rapidly across the screen, his dark eyes reflecting the scrolling data and charts that Eyjafjalla couldn't understand at all. He sat quietly opposite Eyjafjalla, as if he had simply changed his "work" location, seemingly out of place in the cafe's languid atmosphere, yet strangely not at all jarring.

Eyjafjalla read a few pages of her book, did a few practice problems, and occasionally glanced up at Suri, who was focused across from her, and then at the passersby outside the window. She felt much better. Indeed, getting out for a change of scenery now and then was the right thing to do. She ate small bites of the sweet cake, feeling the melting chocolate and the warmth of the hot cocoa on her tongue, and even studying felt more motivating.

Just then, the heavy wooden door of the café was gently pushed open, and the brass bell on the door jingled crisply.

A figure walked in somewhat hesitantly.

She was a girl who looked about the same age as Eyjafjalla, perhaps a little older. She had long, flowing blue hair that shimmered faintly in the dim light of the café, tied into a neat low ponytail. Most striking were her slightly trembling, fluffy cat ears with dark blue tips, and her equally fluffy blue tail peeking out from under her skirt, which identified her as a Felin.

The girl had delicate, even strikingly beautiful features, with large, bright blue eyes. However, at this moment, those eyes were filled with a deep tension, unease, and even a hint of…timidity, far beyond her years. She wore a well-tailored, high-quality dark suit jacket and skirt, over a white shirt tied with a dark blue ribbon at the collar. The outfit was sharp and efficient, even somewhat like a uniform, but on her, combined with her expression—like a small animal lost in a strange forest—it created a strange sense of incongruity.

Volume 19, Chapter 1338: Just a little unaccustomed to it

Clutching a seemingly expensive but simply styled handbag tightly, she stood at the door, looking around the café with a somewhat blank expression, as if searching for an empty seat, or perhaps hesitating whether to come in. Her gaze swept over Eyjafjalla, pausing slightly, as if she felt a sense of kinship with the girl who also had distinct racial features (Eyjafjalla's horns), but quickly moved away, finally settling on another empty table against the wall not far from Eyjafjalla and Suri.

She seemed to have made a great decision before walking with somewhat stiff steps to the empty table and sitting down. She carefully placed her handbag on the chair beside her, her movements so gentle as if afraid of disturbing something. A waiter came forward, and she took the menu, her fingers trembling slightly. She quietly ordered a simple black coffee, then shrank back into the chair, her large blue eyes glancing anxiously out the window before quickly looking away, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt.

Eyjafjalla noticed the blue-haired, cat-eared girl the moment she entered. Her nervous, uneasy demeanor, so out of place in her surroundings, inexplicably reminded Eyjafjalla of her own helplessness upon first arriving in Trimont, facing the unfamiliar bustling city. Moreover, the girl was also a member of a minority race (Felin), and similarly alone (it seemed), which stirred a sense of shared misfortune within Eyjafjalla.

She couldn't help but take a few more glances and noticed that although the girl was trying her best to hide it, her posture was still tense. She was even startled by the slight noise when the waiter brought the coffee over, and almost knocked over the sugar bowl on the table.

Eyjafjalla glanced at Suri, who was completely absorbed in her "work" and oblivious to her surroundings, then at the restless blue-haired girl beside her. A small sense of kindness and curiosity took over. She gently touched the back of Suri's hand and mouthed silently, "I'll go for a bit."

Suri (in lamb form) looked up from the screen, her black eyes calmly sweeping over the Felin girl beside her who was radiating "high tension" and "low threat" signals. She then looked at Eyjafjalla and nodded almost imperceptibly, which could be considered as tacit approval.

Eyjafjalla picked up her half-finished cup of hot cocoa, mustered her courage, and walked towards the table against the wall.

"Um... hello?" Eyjafjalla stopped at the table, trying to make her voice sound friendly and gentle, and gave a kind smile. "Is this seat taken? May I sit here?"

The blue-haired girl jerked her head up like a startled cat, a flicker of panic crossing her blue eyes. Seeing it was Eyjafjalla, and especially noticing the horns on her head, her wariness seemed to lessen slightly, though her body remained tense. She quickly waved her hand, her voice barely audible: "N-nobody...please, please sit down." Her Common English was fluent, but carried a barely perceptible tremor, likely from nervousness.

"Thank you." Eyjafjalla sat down opposite her, placed the hot cocoa on the table, and introduced herself, "My name is Eyjafjalla, and I'm a freshman at Columbia University's Geosciences Institute. What about you?"

"I...I'm Jessica..." the blue-haired girl, Jessica, said softly, her hands tightly gripping the coffee cup in front of her, as if it were her only support. "I...I'm not a student."

“Then you are…” Eyjafjalla noticed Jessica’s outfit, which resembled a uniform, and the more complex emotion that flashed in her eyes when she mentioned that she was “not a student.”