“Yeah, to turn into a mutant,” Daniela explains. “I couldn’t do this shit until today when you and the pale guys—”

“Mogadorians,” Sam clarifies.

“I couldn’t move stuff with my mind until you and the Moga-dork-ians showed up,” Daniela finishes. “What’s the deal, man? None of the other people I’ve seen out here have powers.”

Sam clears his throat and raises his hand, but Daniela ignores him. She’s on a roll now.

“Am I radioactive? What else can I do? You got those flashlight hands going on. Am I gonna be able to do that? Why me? Answer the last one first.”

“I—” I rub the back of my neck, overwhelmed. “I have no idea why you.”

“Oh.” Daniela frowns, looking down at the ground.

“John, shouldn’t we get moving?”

I nod when Sam reminds me of the impending Mogadorian reinforcements. We’ve already stood here talking for way too long. Standing in front of me—and next to me, for that matter—are . . . what exactly? New members of the Garde? Humans. It’s like nothing I’ve ever contemplated. I need to wrap my head around the new status quo quickly, because if there are more human Garde out there, they’re going to be looking for guidance. And with all the Cêpan dead . . .

Well, that leaves us. The Loric.

First things first, I need to make sure Daniela stays with us. I need time to talk with her, to try figuring out what exactly triggered her Legacies.

“It’s not safe here, you should come with us,” I tell her.

Daniela looks around at the destruction that surrounds us. “Is it gonna be safe wherever you’re going?”

“No. Obviously not.”

“What John means is that this particular block is going to be crawling with Mogs any minute now,” Sam explains. He starts walking away from the bank, trying to lead by example. Daniela doesn’t follow and so I don’t either.

“Your sidekick’s nervous,” Daniela observes.

“My name’s Sam.”

“You’re a nervous guy, Sam,” Daniela replies, one hand on her cocked hip. She’s staring at me again, sizing me up. “If more of those aliens come, won’t you just blow their asses away?”

“I . . .” I find myself having to recycle the pick-your-battles logic that made me bristle so much when Sam used it on me. “There are too many to keep fighting. It might not feel like it now because you’ve just started using them, but our Legacies aren’t a limitless resource. We can push too hard, get tired, and then we’re no good to anyone.”

“Good advice,” Daniela says. She remains rooted in place. “Too bad you couldn’t answer any of my other questions.”

“Look, I don’t know why you have Legacies, but it’s an amazing thing. A good thing. It’s destiny, maybe. You can help us win this war.”