The sun rose over the frostbitten horizon like a wound bleeding light. It filtered through the shattered dome of the cryo-facility, casting golden slivers over the frost-covered remains of the past. For the first time in weeks, Aria felt the warmth on her skin—and it wasn't just from the sunlight.
They had made it out.
Kael walked a few paces ahead, silent as ever. He hadn't spoken much since Rhea joined them. Not in protest, not in acceptance. Just silence. Aria wasn't sure which felt worse.
Rhea, walking beside Aria, was still adapting to everything—the sensation of real air, the unfiltered sound of birdsong, the way sunlight made her squint. She kept glancing sideways at Aria, as if waiting for her to vanish.
"Are we going somewhere?" she asked quietly.
"We're going home," Aria said. The word tasted strange. Home.
"You still have one?"
Kael stopped, turning his head slightly. "We don't. But we can make one."
It was the first time he'd acknowledged Rhea directly. She blinked at him, surprised. "You don't trust me."
"I don't even trust her," Kael replied, nodding toward Aria. "But we keep moving. That's the only way to survive."
A silence settled over them again, but this one wasn't as cold. Not as sharp.
Aria took a deep breath, watching as her breath fogged the morning air. "There's a settlement across the valley," she said. "They might have supplies. Shelter."
Kael raised a brow. "You mean the smugglers' camp? You think they'll welcome us?"
"No," Aria said, lips curling slightly. "But they'll trade."
She reached for her bag, pulling out a data chip—the one she'd stolen from the facility before everything went down. "They'll want what's on this."
Behind her, Rhea stared at the chip with the curiosity of someone who didn't yet understand the weight of secrets.