Silence.
It wasn’t the silence of the meadow or the screaming void of the Archive. It was a heavy, suffocating silence that smelled of melted copper and ozone.
Razack’s world had narrowed down to the woman in his arms. He didn't hear the crumbling of the facility’s upper levels or the distant roar of the ocean as it began to reclaim the shipyard. He only heard the frantic, uneven thumping of his own heart, echoing in the stillness of the ruined server room.
"Christine," he choked out, his voice a ghost of itself. "Come back. You can't stay there. Not now."
He pressed his ear to her chest. Nothing. Her skin was beginning to lose its warmth, the vibrant life that usually radiated from her being replaced by a terrifying, waxy stillness. Beside them, the two children sat huddled together,
