“Everyone in the Colony was there before you, so at least you can be certain he isn’t among us,” Gil points out, the edges in his voice softening. “And if it makes you feel better, I don’t think the bad people ever end up as Heroes.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Just a feeling. People who hurt people think they’re entitled to something. If someone handed them a ticket to an afterlife where they could have anything they ever wanted, I doubt they’d even hesitate. They’d take the pill without question.”

I wipe my eyes and hope he can’t see me crying in the dark. “What was the old Infinity like?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I wasn’t there.”

“Then how do you know this is any worse?”

Wind bristles the leaves around us. I can’t read Gil’s face; I don’t know if he’s angry at the suggestion, or if he’s ever wondered the same thing. Would he even tell me? Or are these the kind of thoughts I’m never supposed to say out loud?

“Because we’re meant to be free,” he says finally. “Anything less than that isn’t good enough.”

“What’s going to happen when we take back Infinity and all the bad people are free too?”

It takes him a while to answer. When he does, his voice is frail, like he’s almost afraid to say the words. Afraid to hope. “Maybe we create our own court, where the villains can’t reach us.”

He looks earnest and worried and something else I can’t quite make out. And for a moment I forget we’re in Infinity at all. He’s just a boy, with hazel eyes and a stubbornness that matches my own.

A boy in the woods, full of dreams of a better future. And I feel like I’m seeing a glimpse of him I’ve never seen before.

We sense the shift at the same time, pulling back like we’re protecting our hearts.

He curves a hand behind his neck and shrugs. “Or, you know, maybe we start another rebellion and send all the murderers to the Labyrinth, where they can kill each other to their hearts’ content.”

An unrestrained laugh tumbles out of me.

Even in the darkness, I’m sure I see him smirk.

“Come on,” he says, swinging his foot onto the first ladder rung. “And pull the hatch closed on your way down.”