The second dawn came quietly. Too quietly.
The Resistance base, once alive with the hum of generators and hurried footsteps, now felt like a ghost of its former self. The sea air drifted through the cracks in the steel walls, carrying with it the scent of salt and electricity — and something else Ethan couldn’t quite name.
He stood on the outer deck, overlooking the water. The horizon was a mirror — pale gold stretching into infinity. It should’ve been beautiful. But beneath the calm shimmer, the ocean pulsed faintly with a rhythm he’d begun to recognize.
Maya’s rhythm.
“Ethan.”
He turned. Dr. Taylor stood in the doorway, her hair pulled back, eyes red from exhaustion. She carried a holo-slate clutched to her chest.
“You haven’t slept,” she said.
He gave a dry laugh. “Neither have y
