She found him tucked under a partially collapsed fire escape, shrouded by dripping pipes. Finn, his olive skin smudged with grime, grinned despite the chill. “What do you think, Vi?” he whispered to the girl, patting a small, lumpy burlap sack beside him. His own prize. Vi pulled out her grey loaf, holding it like a jewel. Finn’s grin widened. He reached into his sack and pulled out a dented cylindrical thermos. “Got lucky,” he breathed, pride warming his voice. “Found it near the old processing plant. Still warm.” He unscrewed the cap a fraction. A faint, rich aroma and something like broth, thick with unfamiliar herbs, momentarily cut through the alley’s stench. They both leaned in, eyes wide. A real find. They didn’t need words. Tonight, they'd feast. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was sector seven. But tonight, they had warmth.

She tore a small piece off her loaf, offering it silently. Finn took it, dipping it carefully into the thermos’s steaming mouth. The taste exploded- salty, savoury, delicious. They closed their eyes, savouring the stolen luxury, letting the heat spread through their hollow chests. For a single moment, the gnawing ache retreated. The dripping pipes, the damp brick, the ever-present overseer gaze faded. There was only the taste, the warmth, the shared silence. Finn sighed, a sound almost content. He gestured toward the thermos nestled back into his sack. “Better than synth-paste,” he murmured, wiping broth from his chin with the back of his hand.

“This should make Old Man Grish happy. Real happy.” His voice dropped lower, conspiratorial. “He’ll ask where we got it. Tell him Sector Nine scrap heap. Found it buried under some busted conduits.” He tapped the thermos through the sack. “This? This’ll buy us a week off ration duty. Maybe two.” His eyes met Vi’s, serious. “We gotta give him the good stuff first. Always. Him, then us.” The reminder was gentle, practical. Survival protocol. The boss got his cut. Always. Grish kept them alive, kept them hidden. His protection wasn’t free. Vi nodded slowly, the brief euphoria tempered by the necessary calculation. The half-loaf suddenly felt smaller in her hand. She tucked it back inside her tunic, the warmth against her ribs now mixed with the familiar weight of obligation. Finn secured his sack, his movements efficient. The broth’s warmth lingered, a ghost of comfort against the pervasive chill. He jerked his head towards the deeper alley shadows.  “Come on,” he whispered. “Before the patrols double back.”

Vi paused beside a cracked pipe spewing steam. “Finn,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the hiss. “The relay.” She didn’t need to elaborate. He knew. His grin vanished instantly. The relay. The dead link. The fragile, jury-rigged comms line Finn maintained was their lifeline, the only whisper to neighboring sectors. The only hope of finding their sister. It had gone silent three days ago. Finn’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. “Yeah,” he breathed, the word heavy. “Been trying. Every scrap wire, every salvaged diode… nothing takes.” He kicked a loose chunk of brick. “It’s like the signal just… vanished.” His frustration was a tangible thing, sharp and sudden in the damp air. He hated failing her. Especially with this. Hope, delicate as crystal, flickered and dimmed. Their sister was out there, somewhere beyond sector seven’s suffocating walls. The dead link screamed silence.

Their sister was Kira, an older girl who had been working for the Old Man long before either of them had ever needed his help. None of them were really related, but they were all each other had. Kira made the hardest nights in Sector Seven bearable, and when she disappeared, Vi would wake up some mornings wondering why she bothered to survive. Without Kira, Vi would have died long ago and Finn would have been worse than dead.

Finn’s expression tightened. “I’ll climb the transmission tower tonight,” he said flatly. “Check the splice points. Might be rain damage.” The tower was treacherous, slick with perpetual moisture and patrolled by overseer drones after curfew. But the relay was their only tether to Kira's last known sector. Without it, she was truly gone.

They melted into the dripping gloom, two shadows carrying their treasures toward a boss who demanded his share. The possibility of finding their sister fell as heavy as the rain around them, but they carried on. After all, there wasn't much else they could do.

Yet.