This is the last time. I swear. I swear. Because I know Yusuf will just say I’m going to get myself killed. He’s probably right.

And sure, I don’t want to die. Not out of self-preservation. I mean, I care as much now about my own personal safety as I did when I dry-swallowed a few extra pills from the plastic baggie I scored from one of my friends—which sent me on a direct flight to overdose land—knowing that someday I’d figure out whatever’s beyond that black wall when I close my eyes. (Just kidding, it’s probably nothing.) But if I could toss myself into a volcano to keep Yusuf safe, I would. Genesis had taught me, after all, to fight with my life for what I believed in and loved. And how to finally take the stage, for real. So, I have to stay alive to fix this, even if he never wants to see me again. And if I die before I right things, he’ll be left to watch the world burn, feeling with all of his gut that it’s his fault and knowing he can’t live with himself.

My heartbeat cranks way up because I know that with Yusuf gone absolutely nothing matters anymore. I don’t matter. He’s the only thing keeping me tied to whoever I was before this, the only thing keeping me from really giving in and plugging into the machine like I know I can. Which I thought was keeping me strong and grounded, but right this second, I’m not so sure. Because Figueiredo is a monster and look at all he can do, with forces of nature bending with a flick of his hand. I can be the monster to save Yusuf, because maybe I’ll never get to look in his eyes again. And the only way out of this is deeper in.

I can do what I need to, and he never has to know.

First, I need supplies.

A shop on the street-level of Yuppie Hayes and Yusuf’s place sold these at-home cloaking devices. We wandered in one day when we were crashing in that universe, and I listened while the salesperson yammered about the features of the flat, little disks. How you could toss one on a side table and it would paint holograms all over your room, letting you swap out your wall colors or the look of your furniture without having to buy new pieces. The world had dumbed down this military tech enough that you could turn dishes in the sink and piles of laundry invisible before company comes over, instead of running around and cleaning in a mad dash.