“Hey, calm down,” Yeong starts, his hands pressing at the air.

“What the hell did you do to me?” I snap, shoving the black coils to the floor and pressing my back against the wall. It’s as far away as I can get without trying to flee past him, which might’ve been a possibility if it weren’t for the other person standing there, eyes narrowed like I’m being scrutinized.

He can’t be much older than me. At least, not much older than me when he died. I have no idea how long he’s been here. Though his features are soft—brown hair, hazel eyes, and smooth olive skin without a hint of stubble—his expression is hard as stone.

Yeong is sitting in a chair, hands held up like he’s surrendering, which is ironic considering I’m the one who’s clearly being held against her will.

“You stabbed me,” I seethe. Annika may have been the one to hold the weapon, but these people are a group. A collective. As far as I know, they’re all responsible.

“I’m sorry, but we couldn’t take any chances,” Yeong says. “It’s protocol—to make sure you’re really human.”

“You were the ones who brought me here,” I growl. “I never asked for your help, and I certainly didn’t ask to have a knife shoved in my chest!”

“Because you had so many other options?” the stranger cuts in, his voice like a viper. “Would you have preferred the Residents drag you off to War to rot on the battlefield?” He wears clothes that would’ve still been stylish in my lifetime, yet he speaks to me with a hardness that suggests he’s lived a thousand lifetimes.

I clench my teeth, scowling. “At least it would’ve been my choice.” I don’t bother mentioning I have no idea where or what War is.

His eyes darken. “Infinity doesn’t give anybody the luxury of a choice.”

“We had to be sure you weren’t a Resident spy,” Yeong explains with the sort of calmness you’d use on a nervous child. His eyes dart between me and the stranger, and I wonder if his attempt at peace isn’t purely for my benefit. “Or a Hero they planted for us to find and lead back to the Colony.”

“A Hero?” I repeat.

“It’s why we did everything we could to save you,” Yeong says simply.

“Well, you’ve made a mistake,” I say, my body still braced against the wall. “I am nobody’s hero.”

Yeong lowers his arms and smiles. “Your dreams suggest otherwise.”

I blink. The wires. The holograph. The machine. The memories of my parents and Mei and the man who murdered me.