"The scanners were heavy near the docks," Kaelen whispered, leaning his head back against the cold brick.

The drive hissed, the connection severing as the power died. The lavender scent vanished, replaced by the smell of ozone and wet asphalt. Kaelen sat alone in the dark of Sector 160, but for the first time in years, he didn't feel empty. He gripped the drive one last time, then stood up and let it slip into the shadows below.

"I can't let go," he choked out. "Without this drive, you’re gone."

He plugged the drive into his neural port. Immediately, the smog of the city vanished, replaced by the scent of lavender and the warmth of a sun that hadn't shone over the sector in fifty years. "You’re late," her voice echoed, vibrant and clear.

In the digital overlay of his vision, Elara appeared, sitting right next to him. She looked exactly as she did the day she signed the contract—eyes bright, hand reaching out to touch his chest, right over the thrumming mechanical pump that kept him alive.

"The Testament is a record," she whispered, her image beginning to fade as the battery warning surged in his peripheral vision. "But your heart... That’s where I actually live. Stop fighting for the crystal, and start fighting for the man I loved."