The silence of the Moon was a physical weight. Kyle could feel it pressing against her eardrums, a profound absence that was louder than any sound. She stared at the Earth, a brilliant sapphire and pearl suspended in the infinite black. It was the most beautiful and terrifying thing she had ever seen.
Her mind, scrambling for purchase, latched onto a bizarrely mundane detail. "My... my lungs should be boiling. My blood should be... I should be dead." Her voice was a thin, reedy thing, alien in the vacuum, yet Sam heard it perfectly.
He held up his hand, and between his fingertips, a tiny, shimmering spark of golden energy flickered into existence. It was a minuscule star, humming with potential.
"My body makes energy. An endless amount of it," he explained, his voice gentle, pedagogical. "More than a thousand suns. I don't just use it to punch things. I can shape it. Command it."
He gestured to the space immediately around her. "Right now, a fraction of my focus is on you. A tiny, tiny stream of that energy is flowing around you. It's listening to me. I told it to be a barrier. I told it to pull oxygen and nitrogen from the quantum foam and hold it in a stable matrix right in front of your face. I told it to keep you warm, to maintain the pressure your body expects."
The tiny star of energy in his hand shifted, morphing into a perfect, miniature simulation of Kyle, surrounded by a shimmering golden aura. "The energy isn't just protecting you. For all intents and purposes, within that space, it is a pocket of Earth's atmosphere. Because I willed it to be."
He said it so simply. A very small part of me. The statement was more staggering than the view. The power required to create a personalized life-support bubble on the surface of the Moon was, to him, a trivial effort.
Kyle hugged her knees to her chest, the coarse regolith gritty under her palms. The initial shock was receding, replaced by a deep, trembling awe.
"So the company... Atlas Biotech..." she began, her thoughts slowly reorganizing.
"Is a tool," Sam finished, understanding her train of thought. "It's a way to interact with the world without breaking it. I can't just... will a better battery into existence in everyone's phone. It would cause chaos. Panic. But if a company 'invents' it? If scientists 'discover' it? The world can accept that. It can adapt."
He sat down next to her. He copied her posture, trying to look smaller. Human. "The guns, the ginseng, the serum… all of it was practice. Steps. But now I'm at the top, and…."
He went quiet for a moment.
"I need something to keep me grounded. I need people. Or else I'll just drift off and forget what real life feels like." He looked at her. His eyes were serious. "I need you to be one of those people. Not my secretary. My partner. Someone who'll tell me when I'm being stupid, dangerous… or not human anymore."
"The old man..." she said softly.
"He's next," Sam nodded. "But you... you already knew something was different. You're sharp. You saw through my bad lying from the start. Telling you first was the right choice."
A sudden, hysterical laugh bubbled up in Kyle's throat. "You... you brought me to the Moon because I'm good at calling you on your bullshit?"
Sam's smile widened into a genuine grin. "Basically, yeah. It's a very valuable skill."
The laugh escaped, sounding unhinged and wonderful in the eternal silence. It broke the last of the tension. She was on the Moon, having a business meeting with a near-omnipotent being about his personal development issues. It was the most absurd thing imaginable.
"Okay," she said, the word exhaled on a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Okay. Partner." The title felt huge. "What's the first order of business, partner?"
Sam's grin turned mischievous. "Well, first, we should probably go back. I don't think your neighbors would believe you if you told them where you've been."
"Probably not," Kyle agreed dryly.
"And second..." Sam stood up and offered his hand again. This time, Kyle took it without hesitation. "...we need to have a much weirder conversation with the old man."
The world shattered and folded again. The grey, dusty plain vanished, replaced in a heartbeat by the warm, yellow light and familiar scent of Kyle's living room. The sudden return of gravity, sound, and air was almost as disorienting as leaving it.
Kyle stumbled, her legs still expecting lunar gravity. Sam steadied her, his grip firm and reassuringly normal.
She looked around her apartment. The sofa, the coffee table, the half-empty water bottles.
She took a deep, shuddering breath of terrestrial air. "The old man," she said, her voice firming up with newfound resolve. "How are we going to tell him? We can't just... pop him to the Moon. His heart might actually give out."
Sam's expression turned thoughtful. "No. You're right. We need a gentler approach. Maybe... a demonstration he can understand. Something that doesn't break his reality, just... bends it a little."
He walked over to her fruit bowl and picked out a fresh, green apple. He held it up.
"Think this will be enough?"