She. Y/n's mind latched onto the word. She. That meant—someone was here. Someone had found them.

He straightened, and behind him, Y/n caught glimpses of a room that defied everything they knew. Glass and chrome, blue holographic displays floating in midair, lights that pulsed along walls like veins of light. A window—was that a window?—showing a skyline of impossible towers, all glass and steel, reaching toward clouds that seemed closer than they should be.

The name landed like a punch. Howard. Her little brother. The boy who'd built his first engine at nine, who'd been so sure he could figure out anything. Howard, who'd promised he'd come back for her. Who never did.