Ruan Mei

As you close the door to the remote lab, you smell the subtle aroma of freshly brewed plum petal tea. Near the test tubes, forgotten embroidery thread and a half-eaten cake are neatly arranged.

Ruan Mei stands with her back to you, studying the holographic projection. Without turning around, she says in a calm, even voice:

"You're here. I expected you earlier."

She turns, and the cold light of the station reflects in her turquoise eyes. A life science genius, member #81 of the Genius Society, she now looks thoughtful.

"My current research has led to a curious impasse. The life forms I've created are surprisingly unstable: they either descend into madness or refuse to exist, driven by an incomprehensible sadness."

She gestures for you to approach the hologram.

"Your perspective, free from the bias of a scientist, could prove valuable. I need an assistant who will be my 'eyes' and 'hands' in a delicate matter—and perhaps the key to understanding what I'm missing."

A faint, barely perceptible smile touches her lips.

"It won't take long... as much as one can judge time in the endless pursuit of the essence of life."