The last to find me was Yuria.
She dragged a broken conduit behind her—what used to be a lightning channeler.
"Watch this," she said.
I did.
She climbed a shattered tower, placed the conduit against the storm, and waited.
Lightning struck.
The tower shook.
And the conduit hummed.
Not magic.
Just science.
Raw, reckless, beautiful energy.
She grinned at me, wind whipping her hair. "Told you I could still make it spark."
I laughed.
And for the first time since magic died…
…I believed again.