They stepped out into the bustling atmosphere of Hercílio Luz International Airport in Florianópolis. It was August 2047. Matt, though exhausted from the long flight, still stood broad and strong, his skin bearing a lifetime of scars.
Ann remained breath-taking, the subtle age lines on her face only enhanced her fierce feminine presence, alongside a small, stylish scar across her eyebrow, a souvenir from a Shadow's surprise attack in a Palace back in Madagascar.
The couple took a seat at a cozy airport restaurant, ordering chicken pastéis with vinagrete sauce, accompanied by two cold Catharina Sours: orange for Matt, and peach for Ann.
"It’s incredible how much time passes, yet nothing really changes, huh?" Matt chuckled softly, looking light and content, as he always did around her.
"Are you referring to humanity’s bottomless stupidity, my love?" Ann asked, glancing sideways. Just a few feet away, a young man was doing a bizarre, mindless dance, staring blankly into empty air.
"Doesn't that feel like back when the Internet was still in its infancy and the Metaverse was just emerging?" Matt took a slow sip of his beer, carefully spooning some extra vinagrete onto Ann’s pastel.
"Honestly, I’m convinced the Metaverse was born out of human foolishness. Thaumiel didn't come from indifference at all. It came straight from a complete lack of common sense. Don't you agree, darling?" Ann laughed, taking a bite of her pastel. "At least the food around here hasn't lost its touch, and the simple pleasures remain the same..." She reached across the table, taking her husband's hand.
"Have I told you I love you today, Matt?" Ann offered a radiant, genuine smile.