The sun was too bright.
That was the first thing Maya noticed. It wasn't the bruised purple twilight she was used to. It was a aggressive, cheerful yellow. It streamed through white curtains, warming the duvet cover.
Maya blinked, sitting up in bed.
She waited for the smell of ozone. She waited for the sound of sirens or the hum of the Archon drones.
Instead, she smelled coffee.
"Morning, sleepyhead."
Maya froze.
She turned her head. Standing in the doorway, holding two mugs, was Julian.
Not the glowing, golden god-emperor Prime Julian. Not the cynical, trench-coat-wearing Johnny Vane.
This was... Julian. The original. He wore a faded university t-shirt and pajama pants. His hair was messy. He looked soft, rested, and utterly human.
"You were tossing and turning," Julian said, wa
