"To the obvious." Her breath was on my lips. "We live. They don't. Fair trade, right?"

I looked into the eyes of a woman I didn't know. She didn't let me move. I couldn't look away. I was stuck, almost transfixed, on what she was saying.

But the others fought against her, right? They struggled, crying, and screaming. When I tried to look back at them, I knew they reached out to me. But the woman held my face firm. Her nails dug into my cheeks. "Look at me, Damian," she hissed, "don't forget what you promised them."

"Damian..." I whispered a name that felt familiar, but I didn't know it. It didn't belong to me. I was coded, saved, and programmed into an existence with someone. A woman. The same woman whose silhouette glowed to the right of me.

I pulled my gaze away from those screaming, pleading with me to listen, and looked back at the silhouette. The woman before me forced me to look back into her eyes. "Stop avoiding this," she hissed.

Clara. That was the silhouette. She was the woman I knew. The image of her called to me, a gentle whisper among the screams. I heard her voice louder than those shouting in frustration, and felt her fear over theirs.

She was scared. What happened?

"4963!" the woman shouted as I pushed her away from me with all the strength I had. My feet slid as I stood. The screech of my shoes on the cracking floor. I rushed toward the image of the city streets, of the lights outside of a tall building. And each time my feet landed to take me forward, I heard those behind me.

"Damian! Wait!" the shouted.

"You promised! You said this would work!"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I ignored them. I tried to ignore them. But it was hard to do when other images passed through my mind. Like a movie, they replayed in slow motion, almost in reverse. Laughter, group conversations, and the sounds of explosions and gunshots.

"You can't leave us behind!" another shouted. "Please! Save us!"

I forced my eyes open and took in a deep breath. The space we were in opened for me. The blended whites, greys, and black shifted into the view of the city. The sound of cars overpowered the screaming. And I reached forward, for her—for Clara—as she wrapped her arms tight around herself.

"You can't run away! You planned this! You promised your fellow soldiers a second chance at life!"

The woman who'd tried to trap me appeared in front of me, pushing toward me like pixels in a gust of wind. Her hand stretches out to block my path as I stop, but my eyes weren't on her. They remained behind her, on Clara. The woman noticed my lack of focus and fear and turned back to see Clara's silhouette. Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at me with a cocked brow. "What does she have that your plan, your people, cannot give you?"

The image of Clara blurred. Was I running out of time? Why wasn't I there? Why was I here?

Glancing behind me, I saw the others standing still with their eyes on the ceiling. The cracks continued, pieces of white falling to their feet. They looked so confused and in pain; it hurt to see them like this. But as I turned back to look at Clara, it hurt to see her like that, too; afraid and alone. When I first saw her, I knew I wasn't supposed to leave her side. Being at her side... gave me life.

Looking back at the woman, I slowly shook my head and pointed at Clara's silhouette. "She helped me realize that I had a life, and this," I flattened my other hand against my chest, "this 'life' isn't it."

"Oh?" The woman lifted her brow and tilted her head, observing me curiously. "Then what is it that you really want, hm?"

Pushing her hand out of the way, I nudged her to the left and pushed forward. No one would stop me. Because all I wanted was, "To let go..."

|||

My eyes snapped open as I sucked in a deep breath. My heart hammered in my chest; my fingers stretched out beside me. My nails dug into and pulled back against something cold, yet soft. Scanning the ceiling above where I lay, I spotted the long lights, too bright and unnecessary.

With a groan, I sighed and lifted my hand to touch my face. If I was awake and in a medical bed, we had to have woken up. Clara had to be close by. After taking her from me, I hoped Xerses would have pulled us out before things worsened.

But that dream made me feel off. With Zara in my face, demanding that I go back to the original plan—that happened the night the Hosts took over, didn't it? I'd forgotten it until now.

"Well..." A deep voice and movement made me turn my head. Sliding my hand away from my face, I saw Matthews sitting beside my bed. His arms were relaxed on his knees, a brow cocked up in surprise. He gave me a small grin before pushing back in his seat. "I'm getting a strong sense of déjà vu," he said.

"What?" I pull my hand away from my face to stare at my fingertips. I saw the pulses of blue light under my skin, then realized a wire was attached to my wrist, feeding me nanos. Nanos were used for injury. But why would I need them? I'd gone into the Void to get Clara out. Had Polk managed to do something? "Why am I here?" My voice was hoarse as if I hadn't talked in days. It felt like it, too. "What happened?"

Matthews sighed but didn't say anything else. He just looked at me. The smile on his face had to mean he was relieved, but the way his brows pinched together, meant there was something else... Matthews was never the one to keep things to himself or to be quiet. So the fact that we just looked at each other without saying a word not only confused me but frustrated me.

"Come on, tell me what happened." I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked around the bed. Not only was there a nano-wire attached to my arm, but my clothes had also been changed. I was in a medical sweater and pants set, down to the matching white socks. Only long-time patients in any facility wore this. Looking back at Matthews, I frowned. "Talk, man. You're not one to be quiet about things."

"I—" Matthews opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of footsteps entering the room stopped him. The both of us looked towards the start of the hospital room. The door had been opened—had to be because I hadn't heard a lock or knob—and Xerses stood in the doorway. Beside him were computers, each with my face, my name, and my vitals blinking on the screen.e

He glanced at the one closest to him before touching a key, then leaning against the wall. "It's good to see you're awake," he said.

Awake. What?

Clearing my throat, I pushed myself higher so that I sat. I was ready to swing my legs off the side of the bed, but I had a feeling Matthews would stop me. "Where's Clara?" I asked.

Xerses looked back at the screens, sighed, then tapped another key. "It's been about a month."

A month? A month of what?

I gritted my teeth. Why was everyone avoiding that question?

I balled my hands into fists as I repeated. "Where's Clara?"

Matthews and Xerses looked at each other, locking eyes with one another. When Matthews shrugged, Xerses nodded. I was getting sick of the silent treatment to the one question I needed an answer to.

"Where's—"

"Can you stand?" Xerses asked suddenly, coming to the edge of the bed.

I blinked, taken aback. "I—" Why wouldn't I have been able to? What happened?

Xerses put his hands on the bed's railing. "If you're feeling all right, then I'll have you follow me. You'll get the answer you're looking for."

Clara...?