One flitted past his gaze. In it, he saw himself as a child, playing with Kalee in the courtyard of Averia. She’d played the part of queen, Valen, the king.

“Someday, we’ll lead this planet side by side, Val,” Kalee’s small, young voice said. Her smile faded from view as the memory floated upward and away.

Then gone.

The sound of gunfire drew Valen back to the world, into his body. He watched as Andi sliced Nor’s arm. Blood dripped from the wound, but they still fought, Nor trying to get control of Andi, to take her to the scanner where she would pass her title on to Darai.

He fell back into his mind, watching his memories drift into the sky.

Another flake floated past Valen’s vision. In it, he saw his father’s face looming over him as he screamed at Valen, calling him worthless. Telling him that he would never be good enough, that he was ashamed Valen carried his blood.

That memory, Valen did not care to hold on to. He smiled as it flew away.

Again, he slipped back into the world.

He saw Androma lift her blade.

Saw her turn it on herself and knew what she was going to do. Only the bravest, the most selfless leader would do such a thing, to turn the tide of the war. To save millions.

But it would only calm things for a time. It would not end the war, for the moment Valen’s body was in full cryo, the moment he was uploaded into the satellite, the threat would remain forever. Even if Androma had managed to kill him, the minds of Mirabel would have remained trapped beneath his compulsion. Only the compeller could release them, by choice.

And his death would prevent that from ever happening.

They’d remain in that state, worshipping the thoughts Valen had placed in their minds, growing useless without new directives from their compeller. He could not release them, not while Darai had him leashed like a helpless dog.

It was almost too late. Valen sensed the uploading nearing its completion, as his mind began to feel light. Empty. And Darai’s power continued to surge through him, still barring Valen’s ability to fight back.

But as that blade touched Andi’s chest, just over the space where Valen had once tried to kill her with his own blade...

Something inside him whispered his name.

It was not Darai’s voice.

It was lighter. Softer.

A delicate voice that called to him. Valen sank into his mind, back into the world that was covered in ashen white, the rubble of his castle a pile at the base of the valley.

“Valen,” the voice called.

It sounded like Kalee.