It's been a long time since you looked at Limbo. Not just stepped out of your frame, but really looked. You remember the first time you did, just after you were woken. After you got into your orbiter after years of sleep, starting up the machines, running system tests.

You remember stepping out of your frame, feeling hollow and naked as you stood before your arsenal. You remember looking at the black and white and glowing blue. And feeling almost unnerved as he stood staring back.

You haven't stepped out of your frame for more than an hour since then.

Yet here you are, before your arsenal, just as you stood many months, or maybe years, before.

You look over your frame, the same black and white and blue, and slowly you reach out, and you link with him.

Bit by bit your consciousness merges, and gradually you look around your mindspace, a comfortable place, permeated by little blips and shreds, as if Limbo's own mind is half in and half out of the rift.

You are reminded of that rumour, the one that said that all frames were sentient. And you wonder how true that is.

Sure Limbo can poke at the back of your mind, and so can he react to your thoughts, you feel the pulse of his heart sometimes, from fear, from pride, from sorrow.

You can feel his conscience here, ghost-quiet and hovering all around, but not fully here.

He watches you, puzzles over you for a moment, and then like waves on a shore, the feeling of familiarity washes over you both. The comforting feeling of floating in space takes you.

Limbo doesn't have sentience, not really. Or so you think. The blips and prods aren't always intentional, sometimes it's just random noise, hazy like static. Sometimes images surface, or numbers, things you don't really understand or remember.

You wonder if it's from the time he was lost in the rift.

Suddenly you feel odd, as the awareness of where this stream of thoughts is going finally hits you. It's unlike you.

So you stop.

You distract yourself, you think about something else, anything. A mission maybe? Or-

A prod.

Limbo presents you with something. Another image, this time of someone.

This is where you find yourself thinking of her.

You like Mirage. Or really, her operator.

That's a given. You enjoy her presence, she's an excellent duelist, her with her doppelgängers and double pistols. You admire her drive to complete any mission, her endurance in battle. You like that she's odd and eccentric and funny.

You think she's got a rather nice laugh, and filtered through her frame it sounds like wind chimes.

You feel a pulse in the back of your mind, Limbo's prodding. A snarky jab at you. Really? he seems to say.

You do like her. But… 'liking' her is really an understatement.

Your heart begins to beat faster just thinking about her.

She's been on your mind a lot lately, apart from the chatting from your orbiter and the banter on missions, there's always a thought of her floating around your head.

Another pulse, this one feels like soft laughter.

You wander to your chat logs, scrolling through the history, it's a nearly daily occurrence now.

You've liked her since the beginning. It's been over a year already. And Limbo hasn't stopped poking and prodding you to find more chances to meet up with her.

It did simmer down for a while, when Lotus didn't pair you up for missions, preferring to match you both with others who were more suited to your skills. But now that you have more free reign over your missions, you've been asking her to join you almost exclusively.

You do wonder if she's ever going to notice you though. You wonder if your attempts at charming her are working.

You'd… really like for her to notice you.

There's a pulse in your chest, but this one is… odd.

It feels layered, as if coming from two adjacent sources.

Limbo? you think aloud.

The pulse grows stronger.

Limbo, what's going on?

There's a feeling here. One that you recognise, the butterflies in your stomach and the thumping heart.

Oh. Well then.

You suppose Limbo's got some sentience after all.

It's been a quiet few days.

Your missions have been rather sparse lately, and you've been left to yourself more often than not. You don't mind though, it's been nice to just relax and wander around Cetus or the relays. There's a calm that you haven't felt in… a long time.

So here you are, in your orbiter, looking through nodes in navigation, and your finger hovers over one spot on Lua.

Somewhere you can only go when you're part of a specific team. Or when Lotus allows.

A facility that kept all the cryopods of every Tenno.

You've been there once.

And you remember.

The room was still, but for the beeping of machines and blinking lights.

You remember stepping in, and seeing the cryopod lined up against the wall.

You head to the panel on the side, tapping in some commands, and after a moment mist began to pour from the pod as it opened.

After a moment, the frame within stirred. A frame you've been working on for weeks, hunting for components at Lotus' direction, specially modifying the foundry in your own orbiter to handle building such a thing. You had to specially transport her here, place her into a pod to stabilise her, start the systems working.

Her with her pink and lilac skin and bony white protrusions, a white mask of a face and pink eyes.

Mirage.

You remember walking along the row of cryopods, in the other room that housed all the Tenno, trying to find the one who could link with the newly made frame.

And you stopped in front of one. And you knew, looking at the girl inside, that she would be perfect. The pulse in your chest must have confirmed it.

You remember activating her somatic link, watching as the sync rate immediately spiked into the mid eighty percent range, slowly climbed higher. And you knew you picked well.

Here you stand, while the frame steps out, and you offer a hand to steady her. And as your fingers met you felt a little spark in Limbo's chest.

You remember that day well. And you don't think you'll ever forget it.

You suppose that was the day he fell in love.

(You also suppose that was the day you did too.)

It takes you a moment to steady yourself, after remembering such a thing.

Because it takes you a whole moment for the pain to set in.

The memory is nice, sure. From a time where you simply liked her, a pure sensation. Not the bittersweet feeling in your chest right now.

There's an ache in both your chests, Limbo's and yours. The dull throb of someone in love, though you know your feelings won't be requited.

Oh dear, you really do love her.

This is no surprise though.

You've loved her ever since you saw her. When she was woken you were the one to steady her as she stepped from the cryopod. When she spoke to Lotus for the first time in years you watched her, hoping she'd just glance your way.

You wish she remembered. You do.

You remember her long black hair and those gleaming violet eyes that seem to glow like twin stars. You remember the dusting of freckles like a nebula across her cheeks.

She's beautiful. And you wish you knew her name.

There's still that spark of hope inside you, that she would remember her awakening. They usually don't. In fact you don't even remember yours. You know Excalibur was the one who woke you. This you know from the conversations from your rehabilitation training. From little blips and flashes of a silhouette off to the side when you first spoke to Lotus.

There's a lead weight in your head and hanging off your heart as you think, she won't remember me.

You remember that pulse in your chest, Limbo's nudges at the back of your mind; his probing and prodding to speak to her, be close to her, do anything to be around her.

Limbo loved Mirage.

You loved the girl who linked with her.

Limbo sends a gentle prod at the back of your mind. A questioning poke, wondering if you're okay.

You... aren't really.

She's been avoiding you as of late. Her greetings more formal, less excited to hear from you. Her speech is more focused during missions, she no longer engages with your witty banter as much.

It hurts.

You wonder if you just came on too strong. If you tried too hard to push her into loving you back.

You have to reach a hand out to steady yourself again as you make your way back to your personal quarters.

You can feel your chest tighten and your breathing become laboured. Each inhale sparks an inferno in your throat.

You love her.

You want her and your heart aches with the dream of love. An echo, hovering around your mind and giving you no rest.

You know she won't reciprocate. And knowing that hurts more than the hits you take every mission.

It takes you a moment.

A moment to stifle the tears building in your eyes, and the heart monitor in your link pod beeps in a mild panic.

You love her.

You love her and you want to tell her, but you know she won't love you back.