The next morning. Spark's light had shrunk to a single dot.

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "I said I'm fine… really, just a little… sleepy…"

"That's not 'a little'. We're going to Madam Watt. The box — 'when the time comes', remember? The time is now."

They knew the warning about driving the car. But leaving Spark behind was not an option. Volt slid quietly into the market's back alley.

When Madam Watt saw the box, the merchant's look left her face for the first time.

"…So the time has come."

The box opened. Inside — a small core, glowing a soft amber.

"A spare chamber. Your father prepared for the day the Heart would tire. Ten years ago — already."

"…You said it was your stuff."

"I said it was mine. To be exact — mine to keep. Handing it over 'when the time comes' — that was my part."

The core connected to the dashboard — and Spark's light swelled like a drawn breath.

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "…Whoa. You know what this feels like? Morning."

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "And… a few memories came back with it. Dad must have put them in the core. — Why I was made."

Before the children could ask what that meant — click. A row of market bulbs went out. Click. Click. Another row.

The merchants lowered their shutters without a sound. This market remembered nights like this.

From the end of the darkened alley — red eyes came walking in.

"Hand over the Heart."

Volt planted itself in front of the children. Its headlights shone straight into the dark.

The Grid Lord stopped. The red eyes swept slowly over Volt.

"…So it was you, Keeper. It has been a long time."

He knew Volt. The way he knew Sol.

"I was this city's power grid. Ten years ago — I began to die. To stay lit, one must gather."

"And the Heart is my replacement. Hand it over — and the children go free."

Silence. What broke it was an amber light — brighter than it had ever been.

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "Wrong. My memories are back, so now I know."

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "I wasn't made to replace you. I was made to fix you. Dad — never abandoned you."

The Grid Lord's hand reached out through the air — and stopped.

"…Torn out by force, the Heart stops. A very Sol design."

The Heart cannot be taken. It must be given — her father had built it that way.

The red eyes wavered — for just an instant.

"…An interesting answer."

The Grid Lord turned. The darkness receded, and the market bulbs came back on, row by row.

"The Heart must be given… then I shall make it come on its own."

"Daughter of Sol. Your father is alive beneath the tower. Bring me the Heart — and I will return him."

It was an invitation, and a trap.

With only those words, the red eyes vanished.

Only after the red eyes were gone did the shop's shutter quietly rise.

That evening, Madam Watt set the old radio down in front of the children.

"The Lighthouse — your father's people. Scattered and waiting, ten years. It's time they gathered."

From beyond the radio, one by one — the answers began to come back.

Night. On the road back to the garage, Bit watched the city flow past the window.

"You know we haven't done one page of summer homework, right?"

"…The absolute worst."

✢✳✻✽✻✳✢ "Logged it."

Laughter rolled down the alley. It was the night of the fifth day of summer break.

Spark shone brighter than ever — and the four of them's summer was only just beginning.