NADIA

Mikey's mouth fell open.

Just for a second.

He caught himself, shut it quickly, then swallowed hard like that might somehow fix whatever short-circuited inside him. His hands shot into the pockets of his jacket—default defense mode. He took a breath, then another, and started walking toward her, slow and uneven, like the rooftop was thinner up here and he wasn't sure where the edge really was.

"Hey... didn't think I'd catch you up here," he managed, voice softer than usual.

Nadia exhaled through her nose—half sigh, half breath of relief. Her gaze drifted back to the glowing expanse in front of her. The city stretched outward in a sprawl of color and light, towers blinking like sleeping giants, mag-rails glowing as they curved between blocks.

"Needed some air," she said quietly. "Too many bodies downstairs. Too much pretending."

She laughed a little, barely a sound, just the ghost of it. But it was enough to make Mikey's chest tighten.

He inched closer, his sneakers scraping gently against the rooftop floor. Each step was hesitant, like he was approaching a wild animal that might bolt if he moved too fast. His shoulders were hunched, the blush already rising high on his cheeks. He could feel the heat in his ears.

When he reached the edge, he hesitated for a half-second, then slowly sank down beside her, his legs dangling just above the rooftop's lip. The city's wind tousled his hair.

They sat in silence, not awkwardly—just naturally, like the space between them had agreed to hold the quiet for a while.

Below, the party carried on. But up here, it was just them.

Mikey glanced sideways at her, careful not to be too obvious about it. Her expression was soft, somewhere between thought and memory, eyes scanning the horizon like she was looking for something she'd lost.

"You don't really go to these things, huh?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Nadia let out a quiet laugh, short and knowing.

"How could you tell?"

Mikey shrugged, offering a lopsided smile.

"Just can. Something about the way you ghosted out of the crowd. Felt familiar."

She turned her head toward him, her dark eyes catching just a shimmer of neon reflection.

"Are you disappointed?"

"No," he said, and he meant it. "God, no. You're just… like me."

That made her laugh again—this time lighter, easier. Mikey's heart thudded a little faster.

Nadia shifted, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Her silhouette, outlined by the city's haze and the faint glow of rooftop lights, looked smaller like that—like someone used to making themselves compact, easy to overlook.

"I'm glad," she said, almost in a whisper. "I never got to experience these kinds of things. Parties. Dancing. Being normal."

Mikey's smile faded, just a bit.

"Why not?" he asked gently.

She hesitated, and in that pause, something flickered in her eyes. Not sadness exactly—more like a weight she was deciding not to carry right now. Her gaze drifted back toward the skyline.

Then Mikey spoke, just above the wind.

"Never mind," he said softly. "I won't pry."

Nadia gave a faint nod, grateful. They both let the moment breathe.

The wind blew a little stronger, tugging at their hair. Somewhere down below, a bassline thumped against the ceiling.

But up here, it was quiet.

Mikey's eyes drifted toward the skyline, the way the neon glow melted into the night like brushstrokes on a moving canvas. A mile out, just past the tangle of buildings and flickering advert-towers, a giant dome rose from the landscape—silver and shimmering, a soft white light beaming upward from its center like a flashlight tucked into a glass bowl.

He chuckled, a quiet little thing under his breath.

Nadia raised an eyebrow, catching the sound.

"What are you so smiley about, Mr.?"

Mikey pointed lazily toward the glowing structure."See that dome out there?"

Nadia followed his finger, nodding.

"Mhm…"

"Inside that thing," Mikey began, a warmth creeping into his voice, "is the biggest ice rink in the whole sector. Maybe in the entire damn Capital. Used to go there all the time when I was a kid."

There was a soft glint in his eye now—something nostalgic, almost tender. His fingers reached up and absently curled around the chain at his neck.

"Had a lot of good times there… even better falls," he added with a chuckle, the kind that hinted at bruised elbows and bruised pride. "It was special."

Nadia smiled, already picturing it: a smaller, clumsier Mikey, limbs flailing as he wiped out on cold ice with dramatic flair. It was oddly charming.

"Why?" she asked, voice a touch quieter now.

Mikey's smile shifted—smaller, but deeper.

"My mom took me there," he said, eyes still fixed on the glowing dome. "She taught me how to skate. She held both my hands and slid me across the rink until I got the hang of it."

His hand clutched his necklace just a little tighter.

"Every weekend, just us. Felt like the whole world disappeared in there."

The wind brushed between them again, gentle and cool.

Nadia didn't say anything at first, just watched him. 

Nadia let the silence linger just long enough to feel safe, then spoke with the kind of softness that made the question feel more like a whisper of care than intrusion.

"Do you… not go there with her anymore?"

Mikey's jaw tensed just slightly. His eyes stayed on the dome, but something in them shifted—like a shutter closing halfway.

His voice wavered, barely perceptible.

"No. I don't." He paused, swallowed.

"But God… I'd do anything to go there with her again."

There was a stillness in the air now. Not heavy—but quiet, like the city itself was giving them a moment.

Nadia leaned in just a bit, voice lower than before.

"Did she…"

Mikey nodded before she could finish. A small, involuntary sniffle escaped him, and he brushed the tip of his nose with the back of his hand.

"Yeah."

She didn't look away. Not even for a second. Her eyes stayed on him, unwavering, even as his remained glued to the dome in the distance like it was the last thread tying him to some other time.

"How old were you?" she asked, the words barely above a breath.

Mikey smiled—a smile that wasn't really a smile at all, more like a mask worn for survival. The kind of expression that says I'm fine when you're absolutely not.

"Eleven."

Nadia didn't say I'm sorry. She figured Mikey had heard it a thousand times, from teachers, doctors, strangers trying to mean well. Instead, she let the silence stretch between them like a soft blanket. It said more than empty words ever could.

The wind whistled gently past them, catching strands of her hair and ruffling Mikey's collar. Below, the bass of the party thumped faintly through the concrete, like a heartbeat far beneath their feet.

Mikey drew in a long breath through his nose, then exhaled slowly. It wasn't dramatic—just a subtle shift, a sign he was ready to move on from the memories he'd let surface.

He lifted a hand to the side of his head, tapping the small circular implant at his temple. It pulsed with a dim orange light.

"H.E.L.P., detach mode"

A soft hiss sounded as the implant disengaged with a click, steam rising in a whisper of vapor.

The voice of H.E.L.P. replied in its smooth, ever-neutral tone.

"Of course, Michael."

The implant dropped into Mikey's palm, glowing faintly like a tiny, sleeping sun.

Nadia let out a surprised giggle, eyebrows lifting in amused confusion.

"What are you doing?"

Mikey grinned as he turned the device over in his hand. There was a playful glint in his eyes now—something lighter, something young.

"You'll see."

Mikey leaned forward slightly, cupping the small, glowing disc in his hand like it was something sacred.

"H.E.L.P, show me video file 3F," he whispered.

The implant chimed softly, its voice crisp and even.

"Yes, Michael. Now displaying video file 3F."

Nadia nearly stumbled back, startled by the sound. Until now, H.E.L.P. had only spoken within Mikey's head—quiet and unseen.

"What are you—" she started, brow furrowed in confusion.

But before she could finish, soft beams of neon light burst from the device now resting beside Mikey's leg on the ledge. Blue and pink streams spiraled into the air, coalescing above them in a slow, mesmerizing bloom.

A massive, translucent whale hovered in the space above the rooftop—its body shifting with pixelated grace, swimming through the night air as if it belonged there.

Nadia blinked, her breath catching as a delighted chuckle escaped her lips.

"Oh my…"

Mikey pointed up at the creature, a quiet pride in his voice.

"I think it's called a whale," he said softly. "It's beautiful, huh?"

Nadia's face lit up, eyes wide with childlike wonder as the glowing creature glided overhead. She stood up slowly, then darted off the ledge onto the open space of the rooftop, her arms slightly out for balance as she moved beneath the projection.

She ran back and forth, laughing with unfiltered joy, tracking the whale's lazy, graceful arc across the air.

"Look at him go!" she shouted, twirling once as the colors danced over her.

Mikey watched her, his head slowly turning to follow her movement. Something inside his chest bumped—not just from attraction, but from how alive she looked in that moment, bathed in neon light, laughing like nothing in the world could ever touch her.

He smiled, soft and involuntary.

She was stunning.

Nadia rushed back toward him, her steps light and eager on the rooftop's concrete. Without hesitation, she grabbed Mikey's hands in both of hers, her fingers warm and fast against his. She leaned in close, her face glowing in the holographic shimmer.

"How'd you get this?" she asked, her voice practically buzzing with enthusiasm.

Mikey's chest tightened a little at the contact, and his face flushed a deep shade of red. He stumbled through his words, eyes darting down at their hands.

"Oh, uh… I found it in a junkyard near the end of Sector C."

Nadia's grin widened like he'd just told her the best secret in the world.

"That's amazing!"

She tugged gently at his hands, giving him a look that was impossible to say no to.

"C'mon!"

Still blushing, Mikey stood—more accurately, let himself be pulled off the ledge like a ragdoll in her orbit. She giggled as she moved, keeping his hands in hers, chasing after the drifting whale above like a kid chasing a balloon. But Mikey wasn't watching the whale.

He was watching her.

Her laugh, her eyes, the way the light curled around her in pinks and blues like the world had decided to frame her.

"I can't believe I've never seen one of these things before!" Nadia shouted, spinning beneath the hologram.

"I think they lived in the ocean," Mikey replied softly, still breathless. "Before the Cataclysm. I wish the Council still allowed access to it… we could see them for real."

They kept moving, swept up in the slow orbit of the creature. The whale's glowing body passed directly through them, scattering neon light across their skin. As it faded behind them, Mikey found himself suddenly standing face to face with her—closer than before.

Nadia looked up, her eyes still wide with the laughter that lingered on her lips. And then... she stopped laughing.

The space between them filled with something quieter. He could hear her breathing now—light and even. His smile faltered into something more vulnerable.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to.

Because in that split second—beneath a synthetic whale and a very real sky—Mikey felt it.

A spark.