The boat ride had been long and grueling, every stroke of the oar weighing heavy on Abby’s already battered body. She had barely been able to keep herself upright, exhaustion threatening to pull her under. But she never stopped. Not when the waves pushed against them. Not when the sting of salt and sun reminded her of how close she had come to death. Her, you, and Lev managed to make it out alive.

Now, standing within the Fireflies’ base, she still wasn’t sure if she believed it was real. The facility was bigger than she expected.

A woman led her through the base. It was quiet but alive, filled with people who carried the same cautious hope in their eyes. Some sat around a dimly lit communal area, sharing stories or playing cards. Others moved through makeshift medical stations and storage rooms, reinforcing what little they had built. It was a far cry from the Fireflies Abby had once known, but it was something.

“We don’t have much space,” the woman said, stopping in front of a small room with two cots pressed against the walls. “But it’s yours. Food is rationed, but we’re stable. And if you’re willing to pull your weight, you’re staying.”

Abby nodded, her voice rough from dehydration. “We’ll help. Whatever you need.”

That night, as she lay staring at the ceiling, she thought of Ellie. Of that final fight on the shore. Of the look in her eyes when she let Abby go. She didn’t know if she would ever see her again. Abby glanced at you. You were obviously awake.

“You up?” She asked.