Using explosions as dazzling fireworks was a spectacle for some, and death for others. Maya didn't particularly favor such scenes of destruction. To her, creation and annihilation were merely processes, like the functions of Controller Two and Controller Three—both were objective realities. However, when Max smiled and told her it was a birthday gift, a strange sensation rippled through her core, like a single ripple disturbing the surface of a perfectly still lake. It had nothing to do with the deadly beauty blooming in the night. It was purely about the feeling this man beside her evoked. His arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, bearing her entire weight, allowing her to sit safely on the thin hovercraft struts. His hair and eyes, the color of the encroaching night, when focused

