Crack. She needed her old equipment back on Earth and had to leave for a while to finish the prototype. The way she talked about it wasn’t just endearing but intoxicating. Her eyes lit up when she explained the ins and outs of the process, what recovery would be like for him, and all the associated risks. But she was confident, too, that it would work, that if she had time and focus she could perfect a chip with the cure, and he would sleep the sleep of the deeply anesthetized while the lifesaving chip was fused to the AR implant. While she worked, he would dream of this moment, of how close they had both come to failure and annihilation.

But that was a fantasy. The station creaked all around them, the floor beneath their feet tilting suddenly, sending them careening into the corridor wall. The mass of tangled growth cushioned the impact, and Edison let Rosalyn fall against his chest as they and their pursuers struggled to stay upright. A head, torso and one arm pulled itself toward them, flowering blue sprouts as small as clover waving as the remnant of humanity, the evidence of Foxfire’s cruelty, made a pathetic attempt to stop them. Edison kicked it hard into the wall out of mercy, putting his boot through the mushy face and grinding before yanking Rosalyn toward the elevators.

She was crying.

Hiccups punctuated every sob as she gasped for air, keeping pace with his run. Edison felt his heart twist to the side as he glanced down and saw how red her face had become, shining wet with tears. The elevators were so close. Did she think they wouldn’t make it?

“Tell me something funny,” he rasped out, not realizing how out of breath he was, how fast and hard they had been sprinting. His arm hurt so badly that it had gone numb out of pity for his pain receptors. But he did feel it. No more voices, plenty more pain. Foxfire was losing its grasp on his mind.

“What?”

Edison slammed his entire hand into the elevator controls, pressing the CALL square way more times than was necessary. Maybe it was necessary. On the periphery of his vision shapes moved, sliding ever closer, bodies and parts of bodies clamoring to stop them, to take her.

“Don’t look back. Tell me something funny. Anything.”

The elevator doors opened and Edison half tackled her into the safety of the car. He knelt and repeatedly jammed the CLOSE button, then their destination. Docking platform. Evac pods. Salvation.

Rosalyn crawled into his arms, and they sat huddled against the wall, rocking, while the elevator lowered. They dropped with unnatural speed for a second, the elevator shifting from side to side, jarring them as the station tilted further out of alignment. He held Rosalyn tight. Misato had completed her objective, now it was time for him to do the same.