"Okay, from the top. What are you hiding in that garage?"

"A cat. …We keep a cat."

"Does your cat turn on headlights?"

"…It's an electric cat."

"Is that seriously your best lie?"

Bit knew it instantly. This was an opponent he could not beat. In games, someone you can't beat from the very first encounter is one of two things — the final boss, or a party member.

The girl was grinning, elbows on the fence. She lived next door, she said. Her name was Dot. Tenth grade.

"One year older than you. Call me noona."

"…No way."

"I'll let that slide for now. Urgent things first."

He was busted anyway. Bit opened the garage door. In games too, once stealth fails, all that's left is the frontal assault.

"A talking car? Dude, I'm not in elementary school."

The moment Dot snorted — the dashboard blinked on its own.

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "…Hello?"

Dot froze. Three seconds. Four. Five.

Dot staying quiet this long — as he would learn later — happens maybe a few times a year.

"…Okay, this is huge."

Her pivot was fast. Dot held up three fingers.

"Three conditions. One — I keep your secret. Two — I share our solar power. Three — I'm in."

"Wait. Those aren't conditions, that's an announce—"

"You'd better take the deal."

"I have a condition too. I'm not calling you noona."

"Then no electricity either."

"…Negotiation complete."

Spark cut in.

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "Approved. Whoever has the power holds the power."

"Smart little light."

Within thirty minutes, Dot had run a cable over the fence. When Bit saw what was at the other end, his jaw dropped. Panels covering half the rooftop. Hand-wound coils. A storage bank of eight salvaged batteries wired together. Hard to believe a tenth grader had built it with her bare hands.

"The ration grid can't see it. Because I made it."

The headlights came on. And then —

the wheels twitched. Just for a moment.

"Did you see that?"

"I saw it."

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "…That wasn't me. Volt moved."

The first movement in ten years.

Not dead for ten years — more like it had spent ten years waiting for the day it would wake.

The same moment. Across the city — atop a lightless tower.

Back in the garage, Dot packed up her gear.

"I'll come back tomorrow. Charging takes a while."

"Thanks… noona."

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

And that night — while no one was watching, something crossed the night sky of Sector 7 without a sound.