Dr. Kaori Nakamori looks up through the visor of her spacesuit’s helmet and into the velvet blackness of space, overcome with wonder even though time is running out. In just a matter of hours, this asteroid she’s standing on will pummel the Earth, wiping out all of human history in the blink of an eye. And the visions—no, premonitions due to her uncanny mental bond with the machine—that have plagued her for years, ever since she and her team spotted the machine wedged in between two craggy outcroppings of the asteroid, will finally come true. The rain of fire over Paris and the streets of Barcelona. We’ll miss you, Mona Lisa. Goodbye, Gaudi. The scorched bones of the planet where Machu Picchu once stood. She draws a breath—steady even with all the weight on her—and waits just a second longer. A single tear rolls down her cheek. For an instant, the teardrop reflects the starlight.

Mostly, she wishes her parents were alive to see who she’s become.

I know I’m supposed to be watching the climax of the movie, but it’s way more fun watching Yusuf instead. We’re tucked in the corner at the back of the theater because I didn’t want to bug other people in the audience with what I knew would be Yusuf’s ongoing monologue of corrections on the glaring inaccuracies of the movie. Because really, he argued before the opening title card even faded away, it may be science fiction, but the science should be first. It’s right there in the name.

“That asteroid has basically zero gravitational pull,” he sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “How is she walking on it? She and the machine would just fly off it and float into space.”

“Shh.” I squeeze his thigh with a hand that’s sticky with fake butter from the tub of popcorn that I just housed. “You’re gonna miss the best part.”

I’ve already seen this twice.

The first time, I had a tough time looking at the screen when it showed the Earth puttering around and waiting to get knocked out of the sky by the asteroid. I tried thinking about Before Hayes, but he didn’t help much, and Hayes the Heartless Torcher of Worlds is dead by the All-Eye where I left him. I guess I’m still trying to figure out who this Rebooted Hayes is, the one who tries his best and isn’t following a script anymore, even if it took me a while to get here. And somehow, on the mornings that are hard to get out of bed, Yusuf pops his head into the bedroom to say something like hey, I have to leave but there’s a pot of coffee on. And I remember who I am and how I got here. And how I’d do it all again if I needed to.