Apollo stumbled back so fast that his foot caught on the uneven soil, sending him crashing onto his equipment. Pain shot through his back, but he barely noticed. His chest heaved, heart pounding against his ribs as he stared at the figure beyond the glass. The eyes never moved, barely even blinked. They just watched him—curious, unafraid.

Swallowing hard, Apollo pushed himself upright, his hands sinking into the damp soil. Slowly, he stepped forward, drawn in despite himself. Now that his pulse had settled, he could really look. He tilted his head, aligning his gaze with the stranger's.

Probably human, he decided. Probably female.

The eyes weren't as dark as they first seemed—earthy hazel, rimmed with thick lashes and smudged with what looked like black coal dust. Makeup? No, it seemed too natural, too much a part of her.

Tentatively, he lifted a hand in greeting.

The girl's eyes crinkled at the corners, a silent laugh, before she lifted her own hand in return. Apollo glanced over his shoulder, checking the other laborers. Marvin was still out of earshot. He turned back just in time to see her drag her fingers along the glass, dislodging more of the sand that clung to its surface. It spilled in soft rivulets at her feet, revealing more of her face.

A light blue scarf framed her features, draped loosely over dark hair that twisted into a long braid past her shoulders. Her clothing was unlike anything he had ever seen on Noria—light, flowing, shifting with the breeze. A breeze he had never felt before. A satchel rested across her chest, a bottle fastened at her hip.

Apollo took another cautious step back to take her in fully.

"Can you hear me?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

The girl cocked her head.

He repeated the question, a little louder this time, but she only offered a sad smile, tapping her ear before shrugging.

Then, she reached toward the still-dusted part of the dome, pressing her fingers into the grime. With slow, deliberate movements, she traced a set of symbols into the glass. When she finished, she stepped back expectantly, waiting.

Apollo frowned. The symbols meant nothing to him:

𐐐𐐯𐑊𐐬

His confusion must have shown because the girl's face fell.

She hesitated, then tried again.

𐐤𐐩𐑋?

A question, clearly. But Apollo had no idea what it meant. He pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

The girl exhaled, her shoulders dropping.

Apollo had no idea what to do.

Did he tell someone? But who? Marvin? No. Definitely not Marvin.

He glanced back at the laborers, then at the girl. She was still watching him, waiting. An idea sparked.

Slowly, he raised his hand and formed the letters H-O-W in sign language.

Her face lit up instantly. She launched into rapid signing, her hands moving so fast that Apollo could barely track them. His stomach sank. He held up both hands, shaking his head.

"I don't know that," he admitted, his voice rising slightly.

She froze, her hands dropping to her chest. Then, more carefully, she signed N-A-M-E.

Apollo nodded in understanding. He signed back: A-P-O-L-L-O.

She grinned, then touched her own chest and spelled something in return. But she went too fast. He missed it.

Frowning, Apollo twirled his fingers in the air, signaling for her to repeat it more slowly. She tilted her head, then nodded.

E-V-Y-N.

Evyn.

Apollo repeated the name, signing it back. She beamed and nodded again.

Thinking quickly, he tapped on the glass. Maybe she could write it out.

Evyn furrowed her brow in confusion. He mimed writing in the air, then tapped the glass again for emphasis.

Understanding dawned in her expression. She nodded slowly, then pressed her fingers to the dusty surface and began tracing letters.

𐐯𐑂𐐲𐑌

Apollo stared at the unfamiliar symbols, his mind struggling to make sense of them. It was her name, but in a script he had never seen before. The realization unsettled him. Was she actually human? Could she be native to this planet? If so, why had no one discovered others like her before? Where had she come from?

His thoughts tumbled over each other, questions with no answers. He wasn't sure whether he should feel afraid. She spoke English, but she didn't write like he did. What did that mean? And if he told someone, who would he even tell?

"Apollo?"

He spun around so fast that his pack slammed against the glass. His pulse jumped as he tried to compose himself.

Marvin stood at the edge of H1, watching him with mild curiosity. "Something catch your eye?"

Apollo's heart pounded. He glanced back at the glass, but Evyn had already disappeared. Either she had stepped aside or hidden herself behind the dust clinging to the dome.

"Sorry, no," he said quickly. "Just... thinking."

Marvin chuckled. "No worries. You're not the only one who gets distracted."

Apollo forced a smile. "Yeah. Sorry."

"You're fine. Just pick up the pace, alright, buddy?" Marvin clapped him on the shoulder before turning toward Derek's section.

Apollo exhaled, his body finally relaxing. Derek was surely too absorbed in his own thoughts—probably about his soon to be station—to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Dropping to his knees, Apollo returned to his work, fingers sifting through the soil. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus. His eyes kept drifting toward the White Desert, searching.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Evyn reappeared.

She stepped forward cautiously, glancing around as if to make sure no one else was watching. When her gaze met Apollo's, she raised her eyebrows in silent question.

Apollo hesitated, then signed B-O-S-S.

She nodded in understanding and gave him a thumbs-up. Then, after a moment, she signed R-E-T-U-R-N

It took Apollo a second to process before he nodded and held up seven fingers.

Evyn studied his hands before nodding slowly, though she didn't look entirely confident.

Apollo took a step back, and she did the same. He watched as she adjusted the scarf draped over her head, then turned and walked into the desert.

She crested a ridge and disappeared.

The day dragged on unbearably for Apollo. Every task felt twice as long, and every time he checked his watch, he could swear the numbers were ticking backward.

At last, the shift alarm blared. Apollo bolted for HQ, barely registering the announcement that Derek had earned the bonus. He couldn't bring himself to care—his thoughts were elsewhere. He shifted anxiously from foot to foot, waiting to be dismissed.

"Have a nice night, you rodents," Marvin called, waving them off.

Everyone scattered to put away their gear, but Apollo led the charge. He didn't even bother cleaning his gloves before yanking them off and shoving them into his locker.

"Whoa, man," Derek said, nearly colliding with him. "That excited to see your girl?"

Apollo's heart slammed against his ribs. For a split second, he thought Derek meant Evyn—but of course, he didn't. He meant Lark.

"Yeah," Apollo said quickly, forcing a breathless laugh.

Derek grinned. "Maybe one day I'll get someone like her," he mused before strolling away.

Apollo didn't waste another second. He tore through the fields, sprinting toward the edge of the dome as fast as his legs could carry him. The sun was setting over Noria, its deep red glow fading. The artificial lights above mimicked dusk, dimming to match the natural rhythm of the day.

Would Evyn still come in the dark?

He skidded to a stop at the glass, scanning the barren landscape. Nothing.

Apollo ran up and down the dome's edge, knocking against the glass, searching for movement. But there was no sign of her. Only endless sand stretching out into the horizon.

Then—hands covered his eyes.

"Guess who?"

Apollo's breath caught. He tore the hands away and spun around, heart racing. But before he even saw her face, he already knew.

Lark.

"Geez, Lark," he exhaled, trying to steady himself. "Warn me next time."

She stood there, hands still raised, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry," she said, cheeks burning red. "I didn't mean to scare you—"

"You're fine." Apollo took her hands gently, offering a reassuring squeeze. "I have something to show you."

Apollo led Lark to the glass, pressing his hands against the spots where the dust had thinned. His breath came slow and measured as he scanned the horizon, willing Evyn to appear.

For a long moment, they stood in silence.

Lark leaned in slightly. "What are we looking at?" she whispered.

"Just... wait." He barely heard his own voice over the pounding of his heart.

The minutes stretched unbearably.

Lark shifted beside him. "How was your day?" she asked hesitantly.

Apollo held up a hand, eyes locked on the desert. "Just give her a moment."

Lark stiffened. "Give who?" Her voice sharpened. "What do you mean by her?"

Jealousy flared, and Apollo turned quickly, hands up in surrender. "Listen," he said, fully facing her. "There's someone out there. I think she's human. Her name is Evyn, and—"

"A person?" Lark's expression darkened. "Apollo, no one can survive out there—"

"I know," he said hurriedly, "I know it sounds impossible. But look." He pulled her closer, pointing to the faint traces in the dust. "See this? Someone wrote this."

Lark squinted at the symbols, tilting her head. Some of the markings had already been disturbed by the wind, making them even harder to read.

"I don't really see any words."

"It's a different language," Apollo explained, pulse quickening. "Or maybe just a different... set of symbols."

"A different character system?"

"Yeah, that."

Lark studied it, skepticism still clouding her face. She opened her mouth to argue, but then—she froze. Her breath hitched.

Apollo followed her gaze, and to his relief, his joy, he saw Evyn cresting a dune, making her way toward them.

Lark's hand tightened around his wrist. "How is that even..." Her voice trailed off as Evyn stepped closer.

Apollo grinned. "I told you," he murmured, eyes shining. "There's someone out there."

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