John and Nine enter from a side passageway. In spite of everything, I can’t help smiling when I see them. That smile falters quickly, though, when Five trudges in behind them. Marina tenses up immediately and takes a step towards him, but John puts himself between them, widening his eyes like now isn’t the time. I put a hand on Marina’s arm to keep her calm. To his credit, Five seems to realize that he’s a really unwelcome presence. He lingers on the edge of the room, avoiding eye contact.

John and Nine rush over to us and we all hug. We quickly introduce them to Lexa, who John already heard about from Sarah.

“So, you’re in the middle of fighting Setrákus Ra and we’re about to be swallowed by a giant piken,” Nine says, crossing his arms. “Some timing with this shit, huh?”

“How’s Sarah?” John asks me.

“She’s fine,” I tell him, leaving out the part where I haven’t actually laid eyes on her for the last few minutes. There’s no reason to worry him. His girlfriend can handle herself. “She’s gotten to be a pretty good shot.”

John smiles and looks relieved. “What about Sam?” I ask him.

John shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s got Legacies and I saw him pass out right before I did. He was definitely pulled into Ella’s telepathic group chat. I’m not sure where he ended up, though.”

“He’ll be here in a second.”

We all recognize the voice. Ella appears out of thin air, sitting in the same chair Loridas occupied in the vision. Her eyes are overflowing with crackling Loric energy. She rests her hands on the table in front of her and sparks flare out across its surface. Ella’s hair floats out from her head, surrounded as she is by static electricity. We all stare at her, stunned to silence.

“Ella . . . ?” Marina is the first to speak. She steps towards Ella. “Are you okay?”

Ella flashes a quick smile, although she never looks in our direction. Her eyes remain focused on the empty space in front of her. Her demeanor reminds me of the Entity. It’s like they’re sharing a body now.

“I’m fine,” Ella answers. There’s a ringing quality to her voice, as if she’s not the only one speaking, or there are snatches of other conversations coming through. “I can’t hold this for much longer, though. We have to get a move on. Don’t be scared by what’s next.”

“Scared of what?” John asks.