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She was in the belly of a collapsed library, the ceiling a mosaic of stars. Outside, the Quiet City slept. No drones, no radio, no satellites. Only the wind and the scrabbling of things that used to be pets. Marta survived on scavenged lentils and the memory of Wi-Fi.

Her heart thumped. 0.3 meant three-tenths of a degree off magnetic north. That was the old subway entrance, two blocks east. She’d searched there before. Nothing but mildew and the smell of old iron. airdrop para windows

The command prompt opened. A single line: Scanning for airspace anomalies… She was in the belly of a collapsed

A map? No.