"The day all the space stations came together as one," she recalled in a dull tone. She sighed then, as though the mere mention of it aggravated her.
To a point it did. Raven never quite understood the original division between the stations, of why they were split and not quite working together in tandem as they did now.
"When the bombs went off, I guess each country had their own station sent to space." She looked at him with a small shrug. "To save some of their people, I guess. There were twelve of them. Twelve nations had managed to save some of their people, and they were up in space, not quite living together. One of the stations floated toward another, and I guess a light bulb popped into their heads," she said, her fingers curling into the palm of her right hand then bursting like a flower opening, "that working together was better than working apart.
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To a point it did. Raven never quite understood the original division between the stations, of why they were split and not quite working together in tandem as they did now.
"When the bombs went off, I guess each country had their own station sent to space." She looked at him with a small shrug. "To save some of their people, I guess. There were twelve of them. Twelve nations had managed to save some of their people, and they were up in space, not quite living together. One of the stations floated toward another, and I guess a light bulb popped into their heads," she said, her fingers curling into the palm of her right hand then bursting like a flower opening, "that working together was better than working apart.
"Boom, Unity Day."