The VTOL cut through the stratosphere like a razor through silk, the roar of the mountain explosion fading into the haunting, high-altitude whistle of the slipstream. Inside the cabin, the air was pressurized and cold, smelling of ozone and the expensive leather of a world that had just tried to kill us.
I sat on the floor, my back against the titanium bulkhead, clutching Florence. My body felt hollow, a bell that had been struck too hard and was now vibrating with a dull, endless ache. My eyes were fixed on the porthole, watching the orange glow of the Appalachian forest shrink into a tiny, flickering embers-nest.
"He's gone, Grace." Julian’s voice was a jagged shadow. He stood over the navigation console, his silhouette framed by the stars. "The discharge... no biological entity could
