I steel my heart. Caelan made his choice; now I have to make mine. “The Residents have made it clear they are never going to give humans a chance. We have to do whatever it takes. We have to win.”

Gil doesn’t bring his eyes back up. “You speak with so much hope.”

“Is hope a bad thing?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitating. One word, with so much certainty.

I swallow, thinking of my own conviction. My own beliefs.

I can’t save the girl. I can’t help Theo. I can’t have peace between humans and Residents. So what’s left? What do I want now?

The answer comes easier than I ever thought it would. Because I want what I’ve always wanted; I want humans to survive.

But now there’s only one path left to get there.

“You once said that resistances are built on fear. And maybe that’s what sparks them. But isn’t hope what carries them through?” I ask quietly.

He sighs, the pain in his voice tethered to something I don’t understand. “Not always. Sometimes hope is dangerous, Nami.”

When I saw Gil on the battlefield, he looked like an immortal being—some kind of demigod. The hellfire, and the way he moved in flashes of light…

He was powerful, yet still afraid. But did his fear come from his memories, or something more? He’s lost so much over the lifetimes he’s spent in Infinity, and he’s put everything he has left into making sure the Colony finds the Orb.

The realization hits me. “You’re worried we’ll fail.”

“In games of war, someone has to fail.”

“It won’t be us. And if it is, we’ll go out fighting. Together.”

His voice sounds far away. “I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t fighting.”

I look at our hands, tucked together like puzzle pieces. “But the hope is that one day you will.”

He nods silently and pulls his hand from mine. The cold takes to it quickly, and I ball my hand into a fist in response.

“Try to rest. Annika wants to speak with you when you’re better.” He stands up and leaves the room, and I get the feeling it’s the first time I’ve been alone in days.

Recovery takes longer than I thought it would. It’s difficult to stand, and even if I manage it for a few moments, the pain becomes too much to bear and I collapse. But I rest often, and eventually my injury dulls to a fading ache.

As soon as I have the energy, I stop by sick bay and find Theo still asleep, haunted by nightmares that pull him in and out of slumber with screams. I blame myself for the state he’s in, and wonder if Gil is right; maybe sometimes hope is dangerous.