The essential sprint back from the fight scene is filled with eager cockiness. Everyone's high on that winning glow. Even Sapphire, the one probably most trained of the four of us, is basking in it.

You two did really well for your first battle like that, she signs, smiling.

You three did all the work, I respond.

I know better than that. I saw you make those rooting hands.

You're not worried?

Surprised at first. But that was when Luna told me.

Yeah, that's fair.

"What are we talking about?" Dante asks, running beside us.

"Something above my pay grade," Holly answers.

"You're getting paid?"

"Nope."

It isn't much longer before we arrive at the sewer gate, and Dante departs with Sapphire, who tells us to meet with Dwight. When we reach his office, he's practically beaming at us through the window.

"Great work, you two! I knew you had it in you!"

"As much as I don't enjoy fighting," Holly says, sitting down in one of the four chairs in front of him, "I've gotta say, I've never felt more in control in my life."

"A good match will do that to you. You should be proud of yourselves. Luna doesn't think it's that big of an accomplishment, but she's also more adjusted to things on a much larger scale."

How is the generator hunt going? I sign to Holly.

"Slow," Dwight responds, signing and speaking. "I learned sign language the old-fashioned way. I would also like to apologize for nearly killing you. I haven't had a chance. Well, since you've been conscious, at least. I went too far and shouldn't have."

At least we know what's wrong with me now.

"Physically. Doc thinks it might still be a mental thing. Otherwise you'd be able to talk right now, too."

"I can," I say, somehow willing it into existence.

He smiles cheekily. "I figured. I knew you'd be too stubborn to let me say something like that and get away with it."

Holly stares at me. For as long as she's known me, I've said a handful of words. Even adding two to that list was a culture shock for her.

"Wait, so we can just... talk to each other now?"

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"Don't get ahead of yourself," Dwight says. "She's still very much not immune to bruising her brain again. Short sentences are best, according to doc."

"But I thought you said it's mental and not physical? I thought they said she was fine now!"

Holly's on the cusp of losing her temper for some reason, which is weird. Why would this make her so upset?

"It's alright," I say. "This is..."

I find myself stuck again, no words forming.

Better than nothing, I finish.

She readjusts herself in her chair. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Are you kidding?" Dwight says. "That was—oh, so intense!"

"What?"

"Holly, you know how often people yell at me? Almost never! I have an aura that makes people just more naturally positive when they're around me. It's great for politicians, or public figures, like police chiefs. Only when people who are truly so concerned, so emotional, so caring about something does that power through my aura."

The three of us sit in silence for a while. It grows almost awkward.

"I think I'm ready to go back to the room," she says.

We both sit silently on the edge of our bed, Aurora in between us. She's taken to the safety of the sewer well, although I suppose it would be hard for a robot who'd already been locked up in a cell for years to really care about being in just another room for a week.

Holly has been staring and fidgeting with her Alpha Centauri ring for the last twenty minutes. Whatever she's thinking of—which is probably related to what I'm thinking of—has completely consumed her.

And to be clear, I'm thinking of all the obvious signs that have been developing over the past few days.

Fighting for me. Being by my side for thirty hours while I lay in bed. Some fleeting looks. Caring for me in Omega Centauri. Some of the wording she's used along the way. Hell, even taking the ring from me to begin with.

Maybe it's because we're the only two left from home. Maybe it's because she has serious attachment issues. Maybe it's because she has a genuine interest. Maybe it's because she can't stand to think about her boyfriend anymore.

But she is clearly starting to like me.

Like me.

I feel like such a child.

Is she falling in love, or is it merely some sort of other infatuation? What am I to her?

And what is she to me?

I've never felt that way towards someone, and yet, I've never felt this way towards someone. Caring for them. Fighting for them. Going through different universes with them. Experiencing the impossible with them. Am I falling for her like she is for me?

I don't know. I'm not used to this feeling. Maybe I am. Maybe she isn't. Maybe I'm just reading too much into this.

"Holly," I say, looking over. She's already fast asleep, her legs dangling over the side of the bed. I do what I can to drag her carefully up to a pillow and under the blanket, and do the same for myself.

Sleep comes easily, but at a price. Night has just fallen. A heavy shadow looks over me, bearing the shape of a ship. While screaming at myself to stop, I step inside to see warped tunnels. Each foot forward further corrupts the path ahead until I reach a dead end.

When I turn to head back, I'm met with an uncountable number of faceless specters, all slowly making their way toward me. The moment a scream leaves my mouth, the world around me shatters and is replaced by the science lab of Omega Centauri.

The sound of heavy, twisting metal echoes through the cave. I look up to find my arms chained to the wall, and beside me—nothing. No Holly. The faceless scientists scream out and dissipate long before the galvaknights arrive, leaving me alone once again.

"You're a tough one, Tes Simms," a voice says, the same one from my last nightmare. "If you're a lucid dreamer, you're certainly the toughest I've met."

The galvaknights finally reach the bottom of the staircase, and right as they let out their metallic roar, I snap awake, my eyes frantic in the near-pitch black room.

As I readjust to my senses, I feel the dead weight of an arm resting on my side. Though Aurora is once again between us, Holly did what she could, consciously or subconsciously, to get close. Her heartbeat transfers into my system, and before long, I'm back down for the count. My night finishes with a dream of being dropped off from the school bus on my way back home.