Light sighed, spun a floating piece of rock debris round in the air. “I am…old. Not the oldest; medical science made sure of that centuries ago. But older than our bodies ever evolved to be. I am long past siring children, and in any normal shoal would either be the Thoughtweaver, a venerated elder or worst - outcast for no longer having anything to contribute.”

As he stared off into space, Light subtly tried to tuck the piece of rubble into Jess’ suit, as if it would help him think.

“As for how long I have left, who knows! Work keeps my mind active even if my body is jelly without this suit. I hope to see a good few years yet…How old are you both?”