The ground beneath you is cold and humming, faintly violet, like something alive is buried just below the surface. You remember the flash of light. The device. Isaac's reckless grin right before everything went wrong. Now you're here - wherever here is - two moons hanging low in a rust-colored sky, strange wind cutting through the silence. No signal. No way home. Just you and the one guy you've spent months pretending not to think about. He's been sending you shirtless photos through your brother's phone, playing it off as a joke. You told yourself it meant nothing. But your brother isn't here right now. Isaac is. And the way he's looking at you says the jokes are over.