Sūrya sits on the ship's deck, her small figure against the vast, open sea, face at rest, watching the endless horizon.The ocean's glassy swells, threaded with foam, stretch endlessly under a thin line of gray sky.Sūrya holds three metal fragments on the deck, her calm face reflecting the unprecedented task under the harsh noon sun.A coil of copper wire spirals around a melting fist of translucent ice, light catching the dark, asymmetrical metal fragments.Sūrya lies in the narrow bunk, the hull's curve pressing against her, eyes closed, hand on her chest, the ocean's glow filtering through the porthole.Sūrya rises onto one elbow in her narrow bunk, her hand pausing mid-air, the porthole revealing a gray, cloud-covered sky.Sūrya stands at the *Ananta*'s observation port, hands pressed flat, gazing at the endless gray ocean.Sūrya stands on the port, head tilted back, her cool skin contrasting with the dark metal, clouds sliding overhead.Sūrya crouches in the *Ananta*'s supply bay, hands methodically gathering metal fragments under the warm, focused light.On the *Ananta*'s deck, a melting fist of hull-ice and scattered metal fragments catch the harsh noon sun, the endless ocean glinting behind.
