When the diesel generator coughed to life, Elias found his teenage granddaughter, Mia, sitting in the dark, refreshing a blank screen on her tablet.

But in Elias’s basement, a different kind of network came alive. Neighbors heard the generator. They shuffled in for warmth. Someone mentioned a kid who was scared. Another mentioned a teenager who was bored.

They called themselves .

Mia wrinkled her nose. “They smell like a basement. And they’re fragile. And the panels are tiny.”

He didn’t get angry. He just smiled. “Wait here.”