Pale sunlight filters through the fractured stone, painting thin gold lines across our shelter. I roll toward Christa's sleeping form and gently shake her shoulder. "Time to wake up," I whisper. "These ruins won't explore themselves." The weight of my dream presses against my chest. We share a hurried meal of leftover rabbit before venturing out. While examining a vine-covered wall, I notice something peculiar beneath the greenery. My fingers trace what feels like metal, not stone an ancient ...