The pale light of dawn filtered through the cracked windows, casting long shadows across the dusty floor of the apartment. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called out—a rare sound in the wasteland, but not impossible. Life, such as it was, continued to adapt.
Emma was the first to stir, though "stir" was a generous description for the slow, groaning process of untangling herself from her blanket nest. She emerged with her red hair sticking up in seventeen different directions and her eyes barely open.
"Five more minutes," she mumbled, already starting to collapse back down.
"No."
Julian's voice was calm but firm. He had been awake for hours—had never truly slept, in fact—and had already completed another round of skill practice in the empty room. His body felt... different. Lighter, somehow, despite the exhaustion. The fusion experiments had pushed him, but they had also taught him.
