Liam, unfazed, set up his portable stove on a flat slab of stone. "Worrying won't cook food," he said with a shrug. He fiddled with his streaming interface, but the screen flickered before dying altogether. "Hmm, guess the stream's down."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"Making cotton candy," Liam replied, pulling out a small spinner and some sugar. "Gotta snack before we inevitably meet our doom."
Elizabeth stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "You're insane."
"Probably." He didn't look up. The sugar hit the heated spinner, melting into golden liquid, then catching air as it spun outward into delicate pink threads. The smell hit immediately, burnt sugar and cherry blossom, sweet enough to cut through the damp stone and bone-dust hanging in the catacomb air.
