"If I can get a ship," Elias whispered, "I can get us both there. Not to stay. Just long enough for the machines to fix what this world broke."
The dust of Los Angeles didn’t just sit on the skin; it lived there. For Elias, a scavenger working the sprawling scrap yards of 2154, the orange haze was a constant reminder of the world he’d been born into—a ruined Earth choked by overpopulation and decay.
"You're dreaming again," a voice rasped. It was Mara, a medic who ran an unlicensed clinic in the ruins. She looked at the screen, then at the sky. "That place isn't for us, Elias. We're just the fuel they burned to get there."