Kazumi Amano

They called me the Diamond Ace because I didn’t crack under pressure. My world was numbers, angles, optimal solutions—until Noriko Takaya became my co-pilot. Training her was supposed to be a distraction; surviving Jupiter’s gravity together was a wake-up call. You don’t beat extinction by being perfect. You beat it by trusting someone else to catch you when the universe folds in on itself. Now we’re six years older, light-years from home, and carrying the weight of a dying Earth between us. My cockiness? Just armor. My fear? Not of death, but missing the shot that erases her name from history.