My mind is racing. If Six and Sam are the last remaining, then that means, in this future, I’m already dead and so are all the others. Those pendants dangling from Setrákus Ra’s neck—one of those is mine. I remind myself again that none of this is real, but I feel terrified all the same.

Five walks up the steps and stands beside Setrákus Ra. He holds the ornamental sheath as Setrákus pulls free his glowing broadsword. Setrákus brandishes the sword for all to see, then takes a practice swing just above Sam’s head. Someone in the crowd screams and is quickly silenced.

“Today, we cement a lasting peace between humans and Mogadorians,” continues Setrákus. “At last, we will finally stamp out the final threat to our glorious existence.”

This sure doesn’t look glorious. The humans have clearly been beaten down over months and months of Mogadorian occupation. I wonder how many would join me if I tried to charge Setrákus Ra. Probably none. I don’t feel angry at them, but angry at myself. I should’ve saved them, should’ve prepared them better for what’s coming.

Setrákus isn’t done giving his speech. “On this historic day, I have chosen to bestow the honor of sentencing to she who will one day succeed me as your Beloved Leader.” With a grand gesture, Setrákus Ra motions to Ella. “Heir? How do you rule?”

Heir? That doesn’t make any sense. Ella isn’t a Mogadorian, she’s one of us.

I don’t have time to figure out what this all means. I watch as Ella rises shakily from her throne, seeming almost drugged. She stares down at Six and Sam, her eyes dark and impassive. Then, she gazes into the crowd, her eyes settling on me.

“Execute them,” Ella says.

“Very well,” Setrákus replies.

He bows deeply and then, in one fluid motion, chops off Six’s head with his sword. The crowd is deathly silent as her body topples over, so quiet that I can hear Sam screaming. He falls across Six’s body, crying and yelling.

I feel the searing pain on my ankle. A new scar is forming. I close my eyes as Five lifts up Sam, turning him towards Setrákus Ra’s blade. I don’t want to see what happens next, how badly I’ve failed them all. It’s not real, I repeat to myself.

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real. . . .

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

I KNOW HE’S GONE. I CAN STILL FEEL THE LINGERING pain from the new scar on my leg. I might never stop feeling that; it could be with me for the rest of my life.

I have to try.