I remember the last time Ella sucked me into one of these dream states, back when her Legacy was first manifesting and out of control. It was back in Chicago. That time, she didn’t bring me to her present location. Instead, we were trapped in a vision of the future, watching Setrákus Ra lord over the people of Washington in a world where the Mogadorians had won the war.

“Don’t we know what he does, though?” I ask, my fists clenching on reflex. “You showed it to me. Five goes back to Setrákus Ra. He works for the enemy. He captures Six and Sam . . .”

I trail off, not wanting to further dredge up the memory of witnessing my friends’ execution. I don’t want to remember that doomed prophecy of how we’re going to lose. Ella shakes her head. She opens her mouth, and suddenly I realize that there’s something big she isn’t telling me.

“That future doesn’t exist anymore, John,” she says after a lengthy pause. “My visions . . . they aren’t like the nightmares Setrákus Ra used to give you guys. And they aren’t prophecies. We aren’t locked into them, like Eight thought. They’re premonitions. Possibilities.”

“How do you know that?”

Ella thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. How do you know how to make fireballs? You just do. It’s instinct.”

I take a step towards her. “So that vision of D.C., where everyone was dead and you were . . . ?”

“I can’t see it anymore. Something in the present changed what will happen.”

“If it’s a Legacy like my Lumen . . .” My eyes widen as I consider the possibilities. “Can you control the visions now? Can you look into the future at will?”

Ella’s eyebrows are scrunched, like she’s not sure how to describe what she’s seen. “I can’t control it exactly. The visions . . . they aren’t reliable. I don’t know if that’s because of me, because I’m just learning or if it’s because the future is so unstable. Either way, I’ve spent a lot of time searching through them . . .”

Now I know why Ella looks so exhausted even in this dream space, why she’s suddenly so wise beyond her years. She mentioned before how much time she’s spent hiding in the safety of her own mind. I wonder how much of that time was spent wrestling with visions of the future. It must be agonizing to sift through all those possibilities.

“What have you been searching for?” I ask her.

Ella hesitates, avoiding my eyes. “I wanted . . . I wanted to see if there was a future where I die.”