I'm so sure it was him.

A thousand soldiers smashed through the artificial atmosphere, the bubble that kept the Singavereans safe. Reports became wild and random. Shots burst onto the screen: buildings collapsed, armed warriors pounded through the streets, people dragged from homes that were bursting into flames. . .

One camera zoomed in and caught him in a short, staccato shot.

A Futurist screaming in his arms. His balaclava – emblazoned with that red 'R', the circle around his left eye, and lines slashing down his nose and across his left cheek – ripped from his head, revealing a face. Only for a moment.

It was a young face. Of a man barely older than a boy. Soot dusted the light-brown skin of his cheeks, cheeks I had stroked, cheeks I had kissed. Angry dark eyes flashed in the sunlight, his hair, glossy and black as ink, pooling over his forehead, messier than I'd ever seen. And I'd seen it emerging from sleep on a winter's morning –

There could be no doubt.

It was Musa.

My Musa.

Oh, Musa. What are you doing?

*

Jinaka thrusts a small, cloudy orb into Rai's hand, and in that instant, Rai's screams die. We all stare up at the Futurist General.

'What will you do to Sammi if we don't bring Fina back?'

'Just do it, and you'll never need to find out.'

'But how the hell are we supposed to find her?' Kass pulls Rai up with him, snatching the wormhole from Rai's hands. 'I swear to god, Jinaka, if you lay a finger on Sammi –,'

'Then what will you do?' Jinaka's face twists, and he collapses into a chair, the Futurists flocking around him. 'Haven't you done enough?'

Even Kass doesn't know what to say.

'Find Fina,' he eventually whispers, placing his lips to the orb's surface. Nothing happens.

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'No.' Charlie shakes his head, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He glances at Jinaka, then places a hand on his shoulder. 'Sir, should I tell them?'

Jinaka says nothing.

Charlie grits his teeth, then plops down on my bed beside Kass. 'Fina hasn't got a reti-chip. So, you can't track her directly. But Captain Locke does, Hayden, her guard.' He clears his throat, and speaks into the wormhole. 'Find Hayden of order 237, rank nine, chip number 479b.'

The orb lights up, suddenly opalescent, its swirling innards reminding me of the mists back home. . .

A crystal-clear voice echoes from the wormhole.

'Identifying chip 479b, Captain Hayden Locke, in the Living Caves of the Mist Archipelago. Teleport to this location?'

We look to General Jinaka. He closes his eyes and nods.

'Yes.' Kass swallows, squeezing Rai's hand so tight, I see the bones on the back of his hand stretch taut. Rai buries his face in the crook of his arm.

'Y-y-yes.'

White light bursts out, so bright I shield my eyes. When I'm finally able to lower them. . .

Kass and Rai are gone.

'What are you going to do to me?' My voice wavers, betraying me. I'm surrounded by enemies: Futurists soldiers in aquamarine armour, and their General, Jinaka, slumped beside me. A thought crosses my mind – in this moment, he's fragile. So weak. The familiar heat of my powers trickle through my veins, collecting in my fingers. Growing. I could hurt him. I could end this myself. They'd kill me for it. . . But maybe, it would be worth it. . .

But then, in the bed next to mine, I notice Tanner. Dylan Tanner. He's watching me with wide, frightened eyes.

He's risked everything to protect me. Just a lowly Private, tasked with the most hideous of roles. To protect the most dangerous weapon that RESIST has: me.

If I die now, everything he's done for me will be a waste.

And anyway. . . I meet Tanner's eyes, and he flashes me the smallest, saddest smile. He believes in me. That I'm a good person. If I murder Jinaka in cold blood. . . Will I still be worthy of his belief?

And wouldn't that be admitting that I am just a weapon, after all?

'What am I going to do to you?' Jinaka is no longer silent. He no longer looks weak. He stands, and I'm now bathed in his shadow; one of his hands rests on the headboard of my bed.

'I'm not going to do anything,' he smiles. 'It's what you are going to do that matters now.'

'What do you mean?'

His smile widens, but not in mirth. No. Nothing like mirth. 'You are going to stop this attack.'

'How am I supposed to do that?' Tears spill down my cheeks, all the power I felt a moment ago dissolving to dust. 'It's not like Musa is important. . .'

'No, but you are. RESIST may have caught us by surprise, but do you really think we'll let those cowards destroy our city? Like hell. We'll wipe out every last Resister on this planet if it means protecting our citizens. Is that what you want?'

Musa. Musa. . .

'Is that what you want?'

'No.'

'Right then.' Jinaka's features set. His wobbling, ruddy cheeks and puffy moustache; his small, watery eyes. Feeble features that should look comical. But they don't. They really don't. 'Let's go put an end to this, once and for all.'