The world felt different when I woke.
No pulse of data in the air, no faint hum of code under the ground just wind, the sound of birds, and the creak of half-rebuilt walls around the camp.
It was the first true silence I’d ever heard.
Kira was already up, sitting by a small fire, sharpening a salvaged knife. She looked tired but alive in a way she hadn’t before.
“Morning,” she said without looking up. “No beams of light, no gods fighting in the sky. Almost boring.”
“Don’t jinx it,” I muttered, stretching sore muscles. “The universe has a bad sense of humor.”
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That line had stayed the same for seven straight days.
Dormant not dead. The difference gnawed at me.
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We spent the morning packing. The settlement could stand on its own now; the builders didn’t need me watching o
