Snapdragon Industries. Executive wellness suite. Day.

Warm afternoon light through floor-to-ceiling windows. Real plants climbing wooden frames. Small fountain trickling in the corner. Not an office. A sanctuary.

Lily pours tea from a ceramic pot. Precise movements. Unhurried. Chamomile and honey. The good stuff.

Lisa sits across from her. Spine rigid. Ready for war.

"Mrs. Morrow, I owe you an apology." Lily sets the cup in front of Lisa with genuine care. "My security team had no right to enter your home. They were supposed to knock and wait for permission. Basic human decency."

Lisa's shoulders drop half an inch. Wasn't expecting that.

"They... scared me. I reacted."

"As any mother would." Lily settles into her chair. Hands wrapped around her own cup. "I reviewed the footage. One of my enforcers has a fractured orbital bone from your kick. He's actually grateful. Says it was the cleanest counter he's ever experienced. Like poetry."

Ghost of pride flickers across Lisa's face. Locks it down.

Lily leans forward. Something raw in her eyes. "But I'm not here to talk about that incident. I'm worried about Donnie and Drea."

"If you're asking where they are—"

"No." Lily shakes her head, almost frustrated with herself. "I know you don't know where they are. I care about... them. Who they are. What their dreams are, what breaks their hearts. What wakes them up in the morning and what... troubles them the most. I would like to talk about that."

Lisa blinks. Studies Lily's face for the trap.

"I know about Drea's music. That beat she created that made her whole room levitate? That's not talent, Mrs. Morrow. That's a soul screaming to be heard. The kind of gift that comes once in a generation."

Lisa's breath catches.

"And Donnie..." Voice softens with genuine admiration. "I've seen footage of him working. The way he resurrects broken machines, gives them new life. He doesn't just fix things. He understands them. Loves them. Like they're old friends who need help."

Goosebumps cascade across Lisa's skin.

"How do you know all this?"

"Because it's my job." Lily sets down her cup. For a moment, looks exhausted. "Your children are extraordinary, Mrs. Morrow. And we failed them."

The words hang in the air. Lisa's eyes narrow. Heart betrays her. This woman's saying everything she's wanted to hear.

"They came to us broken. Drea with her wild swings between genius and destruction. Donnie with that crushing weight of unworthiness. We promised them peace. Instead, we took away the very things that made their pain worthwhile."

"You took away their souls."

"We took away their qualia." Lily doesn't flinch from the accusation. "Their ability to feel the texture of experience. Drea can still make incredible beats, but she can't feel them like she used to. Donnie can still fix things, but that satisfaction when a machine purrs back to life? Gone."

Lisa's hands tremble around her teacup.

"What terrifies me," Lily continues, "is that they're out there, lost, possibly making decisions based on numbness instead of hope. I want to help them. Not capture them."

"Then reverse the procedure."

"If I could, I would have done it already." The frustration in Lily's voice is real. "But there might be other ways. Therapies. Adjustments. Ways to restore some of what was lost."

They sit in silence. The fountain trickles. Somewhere far above, the city hums with life.

"Tell me about them," Lily says softly. "Not the files. Not the data. Tell me about your babies. What made Drea laugh when she was little? What was Donnie's first invention?"

Lisa's head moves. Slow. Deliberate. Left to right. No.

The silence stretches. Lily's fingers drum on her desk, then stop.

"I understand." She leans back, studying Lisa with those caring eyes. "You protected them. When my enforcers came. One kick. A destroyed vending machine. Fractured orbital bone. Clean as a scalpel."

Lisa goes still.

"That kind of precision... that kind of power... it reminds me of stories I've heard. Urban legends really, about a group from decades ago." Lily tilts her head. Curious but not threatening. "Have you ever heard of the Marble Wasp?"

Teacup doesn't shake in Lisa's hands. Face doesn't change. Something shifts in the air between them.

"No," Lisa says simply. "Should I have?"

Lily watches her for a long moment. Then smiles. Warm, genuine, maybe a little sad.

"Probably not. They're just stories."