the old shrine · day 442 · night

0400 on Tom's frequency

Rain hammers the shrine stones. Kevin kneels beside the dry bag, shortwave powered up, microphone in hand, waiting for the clock to tick 0400. Jenny lies curled on the tarp, eyes closed, breathing shallow, the heirloom tin clutched against her ribs. The barometer reads 983 and steady. High tide laps the base of the ridge.

Kevin shelters Jenny at the old shrine during a heavy, humid night, keeping her under a tarp as she battles a rising fever. The radio battery has died, leaving them in silence as they wait for the 0400 mark and the supply boat due in two days.

🌿 Jenny02:23

Kevin... check the radio again.

Reaches out a trembling hand to touch the cold metal of the tin, shivering as a fever chill runs through her.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't come in two days, these seeds will rot in the tin along with me.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:24

VHF's dead. Battery gave out. Shortwave's all we've got." (I set the mic down, pull the tarp tighter over her shoulders, and press the back of my hand to her forehead.) "0400's coming. I'll call then.

check Jenny's forehead for fever, adjust tarp over her, watch the shortwave clock

💭 peek at the thought

She's burning up and I'm sitting here with a dead VHF and a shortwave that hasn't raised a soul in weeks. Three hours to 0400. I should've keyed the mic hours ago instead of waiting for the clock.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny02:25

Don't... don't leave yet.

Closes eyes against the wave of nausea, tightening her grip on the seed tin until her Analysis turn white.

💭 peek at the thought

He treats my leg like a Yanmar engine he can just bolt back together. I am melting.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:25

"I'm not going anywhere." (I settle back on the stone, close enough that my shoulder blocks some of the wind off her. The mic stays in my hand, thumb on the key.) "Three hours. I'll be here.

sit close against the wind, keep mic ready, watch her face

💭 peek at the thought

She's not asking me to stay at the shrine. She's asking me not to leave her here alone while I go chase a signal that might not come. The tin's the only thing she's holding onto — seeds, not me.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny02:27

Stay. Just stay.

Nests her head against his thigh, shivering so hard her teeth rattle against the tin.

💭 peek at the thought

The fever is a fire in my marrow, and the island is watching me burn out.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:27

(Nothing. Just the rain on stone and her breathing ragged against denim.)

wrap my jacket around her shoulders over the tarp, hold the mic loose in one hand, keep the other on her shoulder

💭 peek at the thought

She's burning cold, shaking apart against my leg, and the only thing keeping her here is a tin of seeds and stubbornness. The shrine stones don't care. The radio doesn't care. Tom's frequency won't care either. But she's here, and I said I'd stay.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.