Too bad these secret Mogadorian bases never have any exit signs.

I turn one corner and then another, sprinting through hallways that are pretty much identical. I keep expecting sirens to start blaring now that I’ve escaped, but they never do. There aren’t any heavy Mogadorian footfalls chasing after me either.

Just when I’m starting to get winded and thinking about slowing down, a doorway opens on my right and two Mogadorians step forward. They’re more like the ones I’m used to—burly, dressed in their black combat gear, beady eyes glaring at me. I dart around them, even though neither of them makes any attempt to grab me. In fact, I think I hear one of them laughing.

What is going on here?

I can feel the two Mog soldiers watching me run, so I duck down the first hallway that I can. I’m not sure if I’ve been going in circles or what. There isn’t any sunlight or outside noises at all, nothing to indicate that I might be getting closer to an exit. It doesn’t seem like the Mogs even care what I do, like they know I’ve got no chance to get out of here.

I slow down to catch my breath, cautiously inching down this latest sterile hallway. I’m still clutching the book—my only weapon—and my hand is starting to cramp. I switch hands and press on.

Up ahead, a wide archway opens with a hydraulic hiss; it’s different from the other doors, wider, and there are strangely blinking lights on the other side.

Not blinking lights. Stars.

As I walk under the archway, the metal-plated ceiling gives way to a glass bubble, the room wide-open, almost like a planetarium. Except real. There are various consoles and computers protruding from the floor—maybe this is some kind of control room—but I ignore them, drawn instead to the dizzying view through the expansive window.

Darkness. Stars.

Earth.

Now I understand why the Mogadorians weren’t chasing me. They know there’s nowhere for me to go.

I’m in space.

I get right up to the glass, pressing my hands against it. I can feel the emptiness outside, the endless, ice-cold, airless space between me and that floating blue orb in the distance.

“Glorious, isn’t it?”

His booming voice is like a bucket of cold water dumped on me. I spin around and press my back to the glass, feeling like the void behind me might be preferable to facing him.

Setrákus Ra stands behind one of the control panels, watching me, a hint of a smile on his face. The first thing I notice is that he’s not nearly as huge as he was when we fought him at Dulce Base. Still, Setrákus Ra is tall and imposing, his broad physique clad in a stern black uniform, studded and decorated with an assortment of jagged Mogadorian medals. Three Loric pendants, the ones he took from the dead Garde, hang from around his neck, glowing a subdued cobalt.

“I see you’ve already taken up my book,” he says, gesturing to my dictionary-sized club. I didn’t realize I was clutching it to my chest. “Although not necessarily in the way I’d hoped. Fortunately, your Proctor wasn’t badly injured . . .”