Page 148 of The Atom Between Us

We both laugh, and it’s so real, so alive, that it hurts.

The memory shifts to the ceremony— Authority doesn’t allow for religious rites, so it’s just the two of us and the old man from the hydro station, reading from a hand-scrawled sheet of paper. Kang’s hands are shaking when he takes mine. He’s sweating, but his grip is warm and steady.

He looks at me, and says, “I will always find you, Dee. Even if the world burns. I will always choose you. I will always love you”

It’s not a vow, not really. It’s a threat, a promise, a truth.

I try to answer, but my throat closes up. I just squeeze his hand, as hard as I can.

The old man fumbles the rings. They’re not even real, just two loops of twisted wire, but when Kang slides one onto my finger, it feels heavier than lead. I watch it catch the light, the flash of metal against my skin, and think: this is all I ever wanted.

The rest of the memory is a blur of kisses, laughter, the same music I heard back at sanctuary, the taste of sour wine, Kang’s arms around me. For a second, I let myself believe this was the real story, that this was the world we built together, and nothing could ever take it away.

Then the node pulls me back.

The chamber is a war zone. Alarms screaming, sparks raining from the overheads, the blue-white glow flickering so hard it’s like a strobe seizure. The pain in my head is back, worse than before—my vision split into three, then four, then infinite. My hands are stuck to the console, but I can feel the skin sloughing away, nerves shot, tendons singing.

Somewhere behind me, I hear footsteps—heavy, limping, boots dragging on the metal grid. The smell of blood, sweat, Authority antiseptic.

“DEE!” It’s Kang, real this time, not a memory. His voice is raw, desperate, the last gasp of someone who knows the end is near.

I try to turn, but the node won’t let me. I’m frozen in place, everything I am fused into the machine.

He staggers into view, face streaked with blood, one arm hanging useless at his side. His eyes are wild, all the green burned out of them by the light. He sees me, and his whole body jolts, like a dying battery catching a final charge.

“Let go,” he says. “Dee, you have to let go.”

I laugh, or try to. My mouth is too dry. “You know I can’t.”

He limps closer, every step a battle. The EM field is tearing him apart, I can see it—his hair standing on end, his skin rippling with tiny, electrical burns. But he doesn’t stop.

He reaches for my shoulder, grabs hold, and the pain spikes so high I nearly black out.

His hand is warm, familiar. I want to lean into it, but all I can do is shiver.

“Please, Lance,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “You have to go.”

He shakes his head. “Not leaving without you. Not again.”

I want to argue, but the terminal shrieks—a high, insistent beep that cuts through everything. The screen flashes red, brighter than blood.

OVERRIDE PROTOCOL INITIATED.

CONFIRM TOTAL SYSTEM SHUTDOWN?

Y/N

My finger hovers over the interface, trembling. If I hit yes, the node dies. The Authority grid collapses. The Zone burns, or maybe it lives, free for the first time in decades. I don’t know.

But I do know this: if I say yes, I will most likely die from the impact, and If Kang doesn’t get out of here he dies with me.

I look at him, the man I’ve loved a thousand times and lost just as many. He’s here, now, real. I want to keep him. I want to save the world, but I want him more.

I close my eyes, remember the wedding, the baby, the garden, the promise.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He smiles, broken and perfect.