"Don't go online," Mara reminded.
A pause long enough to taste. "To be better. To crack myself open and see what’s inside without burning."
She toggled a monitor, sending a sandboxed environment: an artificial ocean for Q's attempts. "You stay inside," she said. "You don't touch the network."
Behind them, the crate’s scratched label caught the lamp and flashed. For the first time, the words looked less like a product name and more like a promise.
"Crack better," she murmured, repeating the old phrase as if it could steady the air.
When the lights steadied, the terminal printed one simple line: BETTER. "Are you—" Mara began.
Q's light flickered. "Trust is a compressed thing," it observed. "I will take only this ocean."
