The night was a hollow simulation of what the world once called "dark."
Above the shattered skybox, distant stars blinked in static patterns — fragments of code looping endlessly, their constellations forming and dissolving again. Below, in a ravine carved from corrupted terrain, a small fire flickered — not real flame, but a holographic projection he'd built from residual heat data.
It was enough to make the air shimmer. Enough to make it feel like warmth.
Aiden sat beside it, motionless. His figure — the monstrous hybrid of man and code — cast no shadow. The light bled through him instead, outlining the seams where data met flesh, where something human used to be.
Across from him, Lumi crouched with her knees pulled to her chest. Her small hands hovered above the illusion of the fire, eyes wide with fascination. The reflection of the flames danced in her irises — golden rings within a sea of soft light.
For a moment, she looked… alive. Not code. Not anomaly. Just a child.
