Life in the Industrial Complex was far better than their early days of scenarios, all things considered.

Although it wasn't without its struggles, as time passed, they'd slowly grown stronger—more equipped to handle what was thrown at them by the Star Stream, and had grown in numbers. Establishing a Nebula itself was no small feat either, and gradually, Kim Dokja's Company—or the 'KimCom'—had begun to feel less like companions purely allied for survival, and more like a family of its own, in the midst of the apocalypse.

It was insane to think they'd even come this far. In the beginning, they'd all been struggling in their own ways. Hardship, conflict, injury... they were spared none of it, as is the harsh reality of the world now. And while these things were still a fact of life under the observation of the Star Stream, they were no longer clueless, weak, and afraid.

With Kim Dokja as a leader, and each other as allies—as friends and family, they learned to exist again in a kingless world.

As always, the Industrial Complex wasn't exactly silent. With so many members, it was a rare feat if any peace and quiet could be acquired. And yet, it wasn't unpleasant. The conversations audible, the sound of a pencil scratching against paper, pots and pans making noise in the kitchen... it was all terribly domestic; and domesticity was a privilege not to be taken for granted. These moments were what kept their Nebula striving for true peace.

"Hey, what's cooking?" Han Sooyoung asked—not one for pleasantries, and much preferring to skip to the point of whatever she intended on saying. She peered over at Yoo Joonghyuk's back from her place at the kitchen table, tapping her writing utensil against her notebook idly, likely in the process of jotting down notes for her current story's draft. "Give me a bite. C'mon, taste test!"

"No." Yoo Joonghyuk answered bluntly, long since having grown accustomed to her antics, and far more focused on the sizzling pan he was nursing as he stood in front of the hot stove. He was the primary chef of their group, due to his proficiency in cooking. Since he also refused to eat anything made by anyone else, it tended to be the most convenient that he just made their meals. As Han Sooyoung predictably groaned at the refusal, Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. "Han Sooyoung." He chided, the mere name threatening in itself.

Yoo Sangah sat across from Han Sooyoung, seeming a bit tense, but still cordial. The two women didn't exactly get along, and their interactions were usually filled with taunts and bickering. Still, they actually worked surprisingly well together. Nowadays, Yoo Sangah seemed to be warming up to her more, which was a relief. Though she was a very kind person, she was not adverse to holding grudges. "Either way, I'm sure it'll be as delicious as all of your meals, Joonghyuk-ssi."

As Yoo Joonghyuk merely hummed in response, Jung Heewon grinned from her place on the living room floor—a game of cards in between her and Lee Hyunsung, as the two often spent their time together. It was ironic; despite being someone so teasing about her companions' love lives, Jung Heewon was clueless when it came to navigating her own. "Hey, Yoo Joonghyuk~ Your ears are pink."

When Yoo Joonghyuk stiffened at being called out, Jung Heewon laughed, prompting a giggle from Lee Hyunsung as well. Though Lee Hyunsung was less shameless than her, and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. "Hehe, sorry Joonghyuk-ssi." He apologized, though the way he smiled from behind his palm betrayed any notion that he was actually sorry. "I just can't help but notice that you're weak to compliments."

"Should we get Kim Dokja's opinion? He's, like, the Yoo Joonghyuk translator." Han Sooyoung smiled, a suggestive lilt to her voice, as she popped a lemon candy into her mouth.