I look around at the Residents, faces glitched and unmoving. They’ll wake up soon, and when they do, I can’t be here.

I can’t help anyone if I’m a prisoner. But if I run… If I find somewhere to hide…

Maybe with enough time I can think of a plan. A way to save my friends from whatever fate awaits them.

I take a step back, eyes locked to his. Maybe he has something to gain by letting me go, or maybe this is just another one of his games. But it doesn’t matter; either I leave now or I leave in chains.

“Remember,” Caelan says seriously. “Listen to the stars.”

I nod and look back into his silver eyes. For a moment I think I see Gil, but when I use the Reaper, his body falls to the ground like he’s nothing more than a slumbering monster.

I run.

I don’t know how my legs carry me across Victory’s vast landscape, through the forests and the Spring District and the fishing docks that scream with smoke and popping embers, shouting to the darkness that whatever was once hidden is no more.

I try not to let the tears fall or spend time mourning the family I grew to love.

I keep running.

The Labyrinth is not kind to me. The first landscape I enter is a tundra, freezing cold with a snowstorm so wild I can’t see a thing around me. It takes me hours to make my way across the blistering snow, and most of the time I just seem to be walking in circles.

When the landscape shifts, I find myself in a swamp at dawn, up to my waist in thick mud that hurts to wade through. It takes everything in me not to collapse into the murky sludge and give in to the sleep that so desperately wants to carry me away.

Caelan’s betrayal fuels me to rise and fight back harder.

But his mercy—his final act of… kindness? Friendship?

I don’t know what to call it.

But he let me go. He gave me a chance. And someday I’m going to use it to save my friends.

The third time the landscape shifts, I find myself in a yellowed desert, lit up with starlight. I sink to my knees, exhausted, feeling the coarse sand bleeding through my fingers, and I lift my face to the skies.

Listen.

“Tell me what to do,” I whisper to the night.

But the stars don’t answer.

I shut my eyes, picturing the last moments I saw my friends. Their goodbyes seem so final now.

No, my mind growls. That was not goodbye, and this war isn’t over yet.

A storm brews inside me, making my ribs feel brittle. If I’m going to find any strength at all, I need to calm the chaos.