Mars Time: 00:25, February 19, 2295

  Near Silver Orchid Quarters (銀蘭舍), Dragon District, Xing Hong

  The autocab pulled up outside a fourteen-story prefab building the color of old bones.

  Sigrun had passed structures like this a thousand times during her eleven years on Mars. This was the kind of place that existed in peripheral vision, noticed and immediately forgotten. Flickering vacancy signs in five languages competed for attention on the facade: Mandarin, English, Japanese, Hindi, Spanish. Half the bulbs were dead.

  Toward central Dragon District, the sky glowed orange: the red fires, the green plasma discharges, and the blue of electrified blades, all particular colors of urban combat. Sirens wailed in overlapping frequencies, their sources too many to pinpoint.

  "We're here. Let's find H?kon!" Xin said, already reaching for the door release. His voice carried an urgency that had nothing to do with the distant chaos.

  H?kon. Of course.

  A small crowd had gathered near the building's entrance. Residents watching the distant glow, some clutching improvised weapons: kitchen knives, metal pipes, one elderly woman with what looked like a repurposed welding torch. They spoke in rapid Mandarin, Japanese, Korean and other languages Sigrun could not make out, voices tense but not panicked. This wasn't their first emergency.

  Xin nodded to them as they passed. "Mrs. Chen. Mr. Liu!"

  "Young Xin." The old woman with the welding torch squinted at Sigrun's blonde hair, her beige trench coat, the obvious quality of her clothing. "Your girlfriend?"

  Sigrun did not reply.

  "Everything's alright?" Xin asked the old woman, ignoring the question.

  "Eh. Bet it's someone feeding stray Radi-Mons in the sewers again." The old woman replied dryly. "Go on."

  The man next to the old woman said nothing, turning back to watching the sky burn.

  The lobby smelled like disinfectant and something else: cooking oil, maybe. Old carpet. The particular staleness of recycled air pushed through overtaxed filters.

  "Elevator's broken," Xin said. "Happens every once in awhile."

  Of course it was.

  They took the stairs.

  The stairwell was narrow, lit by jaundiced yellow emergency strips that hummed at a frequency just irritating enough to notice. Someone had scrawled 'MARS WILL EAT YOU' on the wall between the second and third floors in what looked like permanent marker.

  Xin climbed, taking the steps two at a time despite his thin frame. Sigrun followed, her repaired coat brushing against walls that left a faint residue on the fabric. She tried not to think about what that residue might be.

  On the fourth floor, an old woman cooked something pungent over a portable heating element in her open doorway, the smell of garlic and fermented vegetables cutting through the building's baseline staleness. She looked up at their footsteps, saw Xin, nodded once.

  "Ah, little Xin." Her voice was raspy but warm. "Running late tonight, hmm?"

  "Just hanging out with a friend, Mrs. Huang." Xin didn't slow down. "Your family doing okay?"

  "Hmm." The old woman's eyes found Sigrun, lingered on her face for a moment too long, then returned to her cooking. Whatever she thought, she kept it to herself.

  Fifth floor. Sixth. Seventh.

  Sigrun's mind catalogued details without conscious effort: escape routes, structural weaknesses, which doors looked reinforced and which would splinter with a single kick. Tactical assessment, the kind of thinking that had kept her alive for eleven years.

  But underneath the tactical layer, she was watching Xin move through this space with ease. Greeting neighbors by name. This wasn't a place he endured or tolerated.

  He lives here, she realized. Actually lives here.

  There was a difference. She'd learned that distinction during her first months on Mars, before she'd figured out how to monetize every part of her body and claw her way to Eagle District. Surviving and living weren't the same thing.

  Eighth floor.

  Outside Room 886, Silver Orchid Quarters (銀蘭舍), Dragon District, Xing Hong

  Xin pressed his Nucleus Watch against the door lock. Green flash, familiar beep. The door swung inward on hinges that squeaked once, then fell silent.

  Sigrun stopped in the doorway.

  The apartment was small. Maybe smaller than her bathroom in Prairie Commons. Kitchenette with a hot plate and a refrigerator that hummed loud enough to hear from the entrance. Bathroom door slightly ajar, stuck at an angle that suggested it hadn't closed properly in years. Sleeping mat against one wall, thin but clean. Workstation in the corner with a salvaged server rack, fiber optic cables snaking across the ceiling like exposed veins.

  Peeling wallpaper. Water stains on the ceiling. A window that looked out on the back of another building, close enough to touch if one could lean out.

  "This is where you live…" The thought hit her as she muttered. "…where H?kon lives."

  But as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, she noticed something else.

  In one corner, crayon drawings were carefully arranged on the wall, several were even protected by clear plastic sheeting. The colors were vibrant, blues and greens and brilliant golds, childish renderings of things Sigrun couldn't quite identify. Each one was placed with obvious care, corners aligned, spacing consistent.

  The heated nest by the bed was quality work. Thermal wires that Xin had clearly installed himself, professional-grade insulation, blankets that probably cost more than the rest of the furniture combined. Soft, clean and warm.

  On the counter, a half-empty bag of 'Buddha's Umber Tonic' cookies. From what Sigrun had read on the Extranet, it was not real chocolate, but fortified cocoa substitute. Nutritious. The kind of thing you bought for a growing child when you couldn't afford actual treats.

  And on a desk next to the refrigerator, the Catalyst-U bottle she recognized from Nikki's prescription.

  Everything expensive in this room is for H?kon.

  The realization cracked something in her chest.

  Everything.

  She thought of her own apartment. The temperature-controlled air that adjusted to her preferences before she even noticed discomfort. The proper bed with memory foam and thermal regulation. The kitchen with appliances she barely used because cooking felt like a waste of time that could be spent earning.

  $877,100 in her account. Eleven years of selling her body, her dignity, pieces of herself she'd stopped counting. And she'd never once thought about what that money could do for someone like Xin.

  Why would I? He's not my problem.

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  But my apartment has a spare room.

  The thought arrived unbidden, dangerous. She shut it down immediately. Too close. Too complicated. Too—

  —kind?

  When had kindness become something to fear?

  H?kon was asleep in his nest, curled into a tight ball with his short tail almost touching his snout. His scales had shifted from the dull gray that worried them at the clinic to something healthier—a silver mixed with bronze, like sunrise on metal.

  Xin went to the bed and knelt beside the nest, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. "Hey, buddy. Wake up. We need to go."

  The little Diabolisk stirred. His scales flickered through confused beige, then alarmed navy, then—when his sapphire blue eyes found Sigrun in the doorway—brightened to a curious mix of azure and bronze.

  "Sky Lady!" His voice was sleep-rough but delighted. "Sky Lady visit!"

  Something in Sigrun's throat tightened as she managed. "Yeah. It's me."

  "We're going on an adventure, okay?" Xin said, producing the bag from the hotel kiosk. "Remember what I promised?"

  H?kon's head tilted, processing. Then his eyes went wide.

  "Buns?"

  "Many buns."

  Xin pulled out the meat bun, still warm from its insulated wrapper. H?kon's scales cycled rapidly, from brown to copper to brilliant gold, as his tiny claws reached for it with the careful reverence of someone receiving something precious.

  "Meat buns!" He clutched it against his chest, scales now radiating that mesmerizing sunlit color Sigrun had only glimpsed once before. "Pappa remember! Pappa best-best!"

  He began eating with focused intensity, tiny teeth in his mandibles working through the dough, juice from the meat filling running down his chin. Every fiber of his small being was concentrated on this moment. This simple pleasure.

  Sigrun watched, transfixed. She thought of her own meals. The expensive restaurants she frequented between jobs, Eagle District establishments with climate-controlled dining rooms and menus in three languages. Food she barely tasted because eating was just fuel, just time between clients and bounties and the endless accumulation of numbers on her savings account.

  How can something so small find such complete satisfaction in something so...ordinary?

  She thought of the Zephyrium bounty. The $30,000 she'd kept was just another deposit toward her Europa return ticket. Numbers on a screen. The $20,000 she'd given Xin, which probably meant more to him than her entire savings meant to her.

  I have almost a million Atomic Dollars, she realized and wondered. Is this what Ivar meant when he told me to "live"?

  Eleven years ago, in those last frantic moments on Europa, he'd pressed the Nucleus Watch into her hands and told her to live. Not survive, but to live. At the time, she'd thought she understood the difference.

  Now, watching a tiny Radi-Mon experience pure joy over a $2 meat bun, she wasn't so sure.

  "So, there's trouble outside," Xin was explaining, his voice gentle as he helped H?kon finish the last bite. "We need to go somewhere safe."

  H?kon's scales shifted to worried navy, looking up after he swallowed a bite of the meat bun. "Bad things?"

  "Different bad things. Probably the ones from the Warren."

  "War-ren?" H?kon tasted the word, head tilting.

  "Yeah. But Sky Lady and I will protect you."

  Sigrun found herself nodding when H?kon looked to her for confirmation. The gesture was made before she'd consciously decided to make it.

  What am I doing?

  Xin tucked H?kon into his puffer jacket's chest pocket, arranging the layers just so, making sure the little Diabolisk could see out but was protected from cold. He then reached for the Catalyst-U bottle to place it into his own pocket. Then he paused, turned back, and carefully removed the crayon drawings from the wall, rolling them with precise movements to avoid creasing.

  Last, a tiny coloring book from the bed, plus a box of crayons. Xin put the items into a small plastic bag he took from a modest drawer.

  "What are you doing?" She asked, the words coming out sharper than she liked.

  "Just the things that matter most." Xin replied in a gentle tone as he held the plastic bag, turning around slowly as H?kon made a tiny excited trill from his chest pocket.

  Things that matter most, Sigrun repeated it in her own mind. Not clothes. Not tech. H?kon's things.

  She thought of what she would grab from her own apartment if she had to flee. Weapons. Money. The Nucleus Watch Ivar gave her.

  Nothing soft. Nothing that existed purely for joy.

  Both their Watches pinged simultaneously.

  [Official Summons: Prefect Dilinur Altai's Office]

  [Phoenix District Administrative Tower]

  [To the esteemed individual: Your presence is requested for emergency consultation regarding the Dragon District incursion.]

  Through the window, visible now that Sigrun had moved deeper into the apartment, the reality was worse than the bureaucratic message suggested. Bone Fiends in the streets three blocks away. City guards engaging with plasma rifles and electrified katanas, the distinctive crack-and-sizzle of combat. Orange light flickering off buildings as something burned.

  "Okay. Everything look good. Guess what, buddy?" Xin's voice was bright, but Sigrun caught the tension around his eyes. "We're going on a surprise adventure."

  H?kon perked up immediately, scales shifting from worried navy to curious azure. "Ad-ven-chure? Like War-ren?"

  "Better. We're going to meet important people. In a fancy building."

  "Im-por-tant?" The word came out careful, unfamiliar. "Like Sky Lady im-por-tant?"

  "Yep, important!" Xin adjusted his chest pocket one more time. "There might be warm lights and interesting people."

  "HAW-koon love ad-ven-chures!" The little Diabolisk's scales brightened further, his earlier fear apparently forgotten. "Best day!"

  Sigrun watched Xin say all that to his adopted Radi-Mon.

  "You're good at this." she said.

  "Yeah, well, best to face it with some hope, right?" Xin smiled at her.

  They descended faster than they'd climbed.

  On the landing between the eighth and seventh floors, the building shuddered. A nearby explosion came, close enough to feel through the soles of her boots, far enough that the structure held. Dust sifted down from somewhere overhead.

  H?kon's scales flickered to alarmed brown. "Pappa? Scary boom?"

  "Just thunder, buddy. Mars has thunder sometimes."

  It didn't. But H?kon seemed to accept the lie, settling deeper into Xin's jacket.

  Between floors seven and six, they found the problem.

  A section of the ceiling had collapsed, filling the stairwell with prefab concrete chunks, twisted rebar, and sparking electrical conduit. Not impassable—she could see gaps—but nothing wide enough for adults to squeeze through.

  "Way broken?" H?kon asked, peering out from his little nest in Xin's jacket.

  From below, sounds drifted up: residents shouting, the distant pop of plasma fire, someone crying out loud.

  "Lo, get back here, you silly!"

  "Need to buy grocery, mom!"

  "Forget the grocery, there's fucking Radi-Mons outside!"

  The voice grew distant. Whoever was on the other side had left.

  Sigrun didn't hesitate. Járn the Thermal Axe came off her belt, thermal core activating with that distinctive whump.

  "Stand back." Her voice came out flat, professional. "And cover his eyes."

  The axe's silver blue blade glowed cherry-red, then white-hot as she dialed up the intensity on the handle. Her Nucleus Watch chimed:

  [+ Thermal Core Activated: Járn - 20% —> 40% —> 80% —> 110%]

  [Output Temporarily Overloaded: Járn, Thermal Axe]

  "Okay. Come on, buddy." Xin pulled H?kon deeper into his jacket, shielding the little Diabolisk from heat and light with his palm.

  She wasted no motion, no hesitation. The silver axe's thermal edge sliced through rebar like knife through cheese, concrete edges glowing orange and smoking where the blade passed.

  Sigrun then kicked debris aside. Then cut again to create a path wide enough for single file.

  Thirty seconds. Maybe less.

  Steam rose from the fresh-cut surfaces. The air smelled like burnt metal and ozone.

  "Sky Lady sword go whoooosh!" H?kon's voice came muffled but delighted from inside Xin's jacket. "Hot-hot!"

  Sigrun powered down Járn's thermal core and sheathed it, catching Xin looking at her with something she couldn't quite name. Not fear. Not lust. Something else.

  Their eyes met in a brief, but seemingly eternal, half-a-second, her nordic blue against his oriental hazelnut.

  She turned away quickly. "Let's move. The rest might not be stable."

  "Thanks for doing the hard work." He said.

  "It's alright." She almost smiled. Almost.

  As they passed through the gap, Xin paused. His hand found a loose wire—sparking, threatening to arc—and twisted it against the wall, tucking it into a position where it couldn't start a fire.

  A small thing. The kind of thing someone did when they actually cared about a building full of strangers.

  Sigrun noticed and filed it away, but said nothing.

  It wasn't long before they'd reached the ground floor. The autocab was still there, on Subscriber Waiting Mode, meter running, indifferent to the chaos around it.

  They climbed in. H?kon's scales had shifted to excited azure.

  "Where fancy building, Pappa?" he asked, craning his neck to see out the window. "There has flutter-bys?"

  "Maybe, buddy." Xin said. "We'll find out together."

  The cab pulled away from Silver Orchid Quarters. Through the rear window, Sigrun watched the bone-colored prefab building recede into the background.

  So that was fourteen stories of people who couldn't afford Eagle District. People like Xin, who counted every Atomic Dollar, who lived in rooms smaller than her bathroom, who found joy in meat buns and crayon drawings.

  "You don't love me," she'd told him. "You love the idea of me."

  But watching him now, with H?kon nestled against his chest, she wondered if she'd been wrong.

  Maybe he saw more than an idea. Maybe he saw...

  She didn't finish the thought. Couldn't.

  Her Nucleus Watch buzzed softly against her wrist as she raised it. She played with the gadget to distract herself, and glanced down at the holographic bubble:

  [Current Account Balance: $877,100 AD]

  [Savings Goal Progress: 51.6% toward Europa Economic Shuttle]

  The numbers meant nothing. Less than nothing. A man in a cramped apartment with peeling wallpaper and a baby Diabolisk who celebrated meat buns had just shown her something those numbers would never buy.

  "Ivar," she whispered to herself, the name rising unbidden. "Did you know? Is this why you stayed behind for me?"

  No answer. There never was.

  The autocab accelerated toward Phoenix District, carrying them toward whatever came next. Behind them, Dragon District burned. Ahead, important people waited with questions she might not be able to answer.

  But in the space between, in the quiet hum of the cab's engine and H?kon's soft chirping as he pointed out passing lights to Xin, something had shifted.

  Something she wasn't ready to name.

  Not yet.

  But maybe something worth protecting.