The blade stills. Gil’s face is unchanged. “Protecting yourself in Infinity isn’t the same as it was in the living world. A human punch will barely make a Resident flinch. At least a weapon can be laced with something.”

I remember the shrapnel in my leg, and the way it attacked my consciousness.

I lift my chin, biting down on my frustration. He may be right, but I’m not ready for weapons; nor am I hugely keen on the idea of being sliced up like deli meat on my first day of training. “Then don’t teach me to hit like a human. Teach me to hit like you.”

He considers me for a moment, running his tongue along the edge of his teeth like he’s working through his thoughts. When he speaks again, his voice is sharp. “You have other talents. Perhaps you should try focusing on them instead.”

I look away, face flushing. My Resident face. The one I never asked for and can’t seem to get rid of—at least not completely. Sometimes I think I’ve dulled myself back to normal, but as soon as I step out of my room and feel the Colony staring at me like they’re not sure whose side I’m on…

Maybe this mask is a part of me now, for better or worse.

“Being able to change my face doesn’t make me feel strong, and it certainly doesn’t make me feel less afraid.” I hide the tremble in my hands, embarrassed of my own vulnerability. “I don’t care if it takes a lifetime; I need to learn how to survive without depending on everyone around me. I need to learn how to fight.”

His face is severe, and every second that passes makes me feel like he’s adding another brick to the wall surrounding his heart. He sniffs at the air like he senses me trying to find my way around it, then breathes out slowly. “So does this mean you’ve finally decided to join the war?”

My shoulders stiffen, and for a moment I think he’s going to call me out for not being dedicated enough to their cause. But he doesn’t. He just stares like he’s waiting for a genuine answer.

I rock back on my heels, mouth forming the beginning of a word like I’m not sure I’m ready to answer him. But I try anyway. “All I know is that I want to be around long enough to see my sister again.”

Gil doesn’t say anything for a long time, blade rotating in his hand. Eventually he sets the knife back on the rack and pushes his gray sleeves up past his elbows. “Have you ever taken a self-defense class?”

I shake my head.

“Kickboxing? Martial arts?” When I shake my head again, he releases a strained breath. “What about PE?”

I make a face. “Obviously.”