At the moment, her workshop reeked of ground steel and burnt insulation, which - according to Keira - was "the holy trinity of honest labor."
Amy stood near the workbench with her signature pose - hands folded into the sleeves of her oversized hoodie, watching Keira half disappear into the open hood of an electric van that looked like it had lost a fight with a power station. Its side panel was scorched, paint blistered into ugly bubbles, and the diagnostic screen mounted above the engine bay flashed warnings like it was having a nervous breakdown.
"Whoever designed this inverter should be legally required to eat it."
A metallic clatter followed.
Amy flinched. "D-did it... Break more?"
"No, it just offended me," she said, sliding out on her back and sitting up. Her hands were black with grease, a smear of it streaked across her cheek like war paint. "Stupid fucking EV thinks it's smarter than me."
Amy smiled despite herself. "It... Looks like it's winning."
"Temporarily." Keira pointed a wrench at the engine bay like it was a hostile animal. "But everything loses eventually."
Amy wandered closer, peering in with careful curiosity. Inside was a jungle of cables, glowing status LEDs, and exposed modules staring back at her.
"It's so... Pretty," she said.
Keira snorted. "That's how it gets you." She pushed herself up and wiped her hands on a rag. "You okay standing that close? It might arc again."
"I can... Move fast," Amy said, a little proud.
Keira glanced at her, then softened. "Right. Forgot who I'm talking to."
They worked in silence for a minute, broken only by the soft whine of the diagnostic rig and Keira's occasional muttered insults.
"You ever think it's weird?"
"W-what?"
"That Void left you in my care."
Amy froze.
"She... Didn't leave me," she said quietly. "She's... Just... Gone for a while."
Keira sighed and leaned against the workbench. "Yeah. That's what she calls it." She studied Amy for a moment. "You know, before you showed up... She didn't do 'while'."
Amy tilted her head. "What does that mean?"
"It means she ran. From cities. From people. From herself... From me. You gave her something to run towards instead."
Amy's fingers curled into her sleeves. "But I... I didn't do anything."
Keira barked a laugh. "That's the thing. You did it by accident." She gestured vaguely. "You didn't challenge her, or fix her. Didn't try to be impressive. You just... Needed her help."
Amy stared at the floor.
"She saved me," she whispered.
"Yeah," Keira said. "And in return, you rewired her."
She slid back under the van and knocked on the battery housing.
"Hold the flashlight steady, yeah?"
Amy knelt and angled the beam where Keira pointed.
"You know how she used to talk about people? Like they were variables. Risk factors. Unstable inputs."
"She still... Kind of does."
"Not about you."
Keira's voice was muffled by metal.
"Before you, she protected data. Jobs. Networks... After you? She started protecting futures."
Amy's throat tightened.
"She just... Didn't want me to get hurt."
"Exactly," Keira said. "That was new."
A spark jumped. Keira swore viciously.
"Fuck's sake- This wiring is drunk."
She jerked her hand back, shaking it like she'd just touched a hot stove, then slid her goggles up onto her forehead and glared into the engine bay.
"Who routes a high-voltage line next to coolant tubing? That's not engineering, that's a death wish."
Amy steadied the flashlight with shaking hands, angling the beam where Keira pointed. The thin blue arc of light revealed scorched insulation and a bundle of cables fused together like molten candy.
"It... Looks like it panicked," she murmured.
Keira huffed. "It did panic. Too much load, nowhere to send it. So it jumped." She prodded the burn mark with a screwdriver. "Same as people."
Amy's fingers tightened around the flashlight.
"Is... Is she going to be okay?"
Keira froze halfway through pulling a cable free.
The hum of the shop filled the space where her answer should've been. A fan rattled somewhere. Outside, something heavy rolled past on the street. Normal sounds, pretending nothing was wrong.
"She's smart," she said finally. "Which makes her dangerous to herself." She tugged the damaged wire loose with a sharp snap and let it fall aside. "Smart people think they can calculate pain out of existence. Like if you line things up right, the hurt won't happen."
Amy swallowed. "She said the procedure would make things easier."
Keira snorted. "Void thinks 'easier' is the same as 'right.' She's a one big fucking paradox."
Amy frowned. "Paradox?"
Keira slid out from under the van and sat beside her on the concrete, back against the tire. She wiped grease off her hands onto a rag that had given up on being clean a long time ago.
"She's built like a machine," she said. "Logic. Planning. Optimization. Input, output. Cause and effect." She held up her hands, palms blackened with oil. "But under that? She's got this... Stupid, moral compass. Doesn't point north. Points to the wreckage. Always aiming at the people already on fire."
Amy whispered, barely audible, "Like you?"
Keira bumped her shoulder gently. "Or you."
They sat there, listening to the car tick as it cooled, metal popping softly as it contracted. The diagnostic screen pulsed amber, waiting.
"Before you," she went on, "Void only cared about whether something worked." She looked at Amy before adding, "Now she cares about who it works for."
Amy hugged her knees. "I didn't... Mean to change her."
"Yeah, well," Keira said, pushing herself up again, "neither did gravity."
She ducked back under the hood and tapped a panel.
"Hand me the insulated pliers."
Amy scrambled to the bench, nearly knocking over a cup of bolts, and passed them over carefully.
"Good," Keira muttered. "Now see this junction? That's where the current decided to become an artist."
She cut away the burned section with a precise snip.
"We're gonna reroute this and add a limiter so it doesn't try to kill itself again."
Amy leaned closer. "Like... Changing a reaction pathway," she said hesitantly. "So the energy goes somewhere safer?"
Keira blinked. "...Yeah. Like that."
She looked at Amy with new focus. "You think in molecules. I think in sparks. Same damn story."
Amy smiled faintly. "She said I make better chemicals than choices."
"She's wrong," Keira said immediately. "You chose to stay alive. You chose to trust her knowing absolutely nothing about her. Those are hard choices, but were they stupid?"
Keira paused for a beat.
"Maybe."
Amy's eyes shimmered.
"What if she doesn't come back?"
Keira tightened a bolt harder than necessary.
"Then I'll go get her."
"You can't just-"
"Watch me," she snapped, then softened. "But she will. She's too stubborn to die properly."
They reconnected the final cable. "And I know her well. If she actually died she'd beat the shit out of Satan to send her back to Earth because she cares about you this much."
Keira straightened and hit the power switch.
The van stirred as the amber warning light flickered and turned green.
"Ha!" She slapped the side of the hood affectionately. "You live, ugly bastard."
She turned to Amy and clapped her lightly on the back. "See? You make as good as a mechanic as you do a chemist."
Amy, turns out, wasn't as excited about their joint success.
"I... Miss her."
"Me too, kid. We'll call her when we get back home. Promise."