“They’re too far gone to realize it, but this is the fate Setrákus Ra offers my people. Ashes and spare parts,” Adam says, staring at his father’s remains. “I wonder how much more would be left if the Great Leader had never poisoned his body and mind.”

Adam lets go of the sword and it thunks heavily to the ground. I put my hand on his shoulder, the revulsion I felt for him over the last couple of days forgotten. He just saved my life and killed his own father to do it.

“Adam, it’s okay,” I start, not really sure what to say in this crazy situation.

“I hated him,” he replies, not looking at me. He stares at the burned uniform, piles of ash and random bones that used to be the General. “But he was my father. I wish things could have ended differently. For all of us.”

I crouch down over the General’s remains and carefully remove the simple black leather sheath that he wore across his back. It’s a little singed but still holding together. I pick up the sword from where Adam dropped it, sheath it and hold it out to him.

“I don’t want that,” Adam says, staring at the sword with a look of disgust.

“Things can end differently,” I tell him. “Use this in a way that your father never did. Help us win this war and change the fate of both our people.”

Adam hesitates for a moment before accepting the sword from me. He holds the blade in both hands and stares down at it. After a long moment of contemplation, Adam slings the sheath over his shoulder. He grunts at the weight but manages to stand up straight.

“Thank you, John,” he says quietly. “I swear to you, this blade will never again be used against a Loric.”

Sam walks over to us. “You guys all right?”

Adam nods. I touch the skin of my throat, which already feels swollen and puffy from where the General strangled me.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply, then look to Adam. “Are we done, though? Or are there more coming?”

He shakes his head. “I shut down communications right before my—right before the General caught up with me. There won’t be any reinforcements.”

“Nice,” Sam replies, looking out at the empty windows of Ashwood Estates. “So we just took over a Mogadorian base.”

Before I can bask in any sense of accomplishment, I notice a dark look on Adam’s face. He’s no longer staring down at his father. Instead, his eyes are turned towards the horizon, like he’s expecting to see something bad headed our way at any moment.

“What is it?” I ask him.

“There was something else,” he says slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I was only on the communications network for a few moments, but I picked up some chatter. Troop movements. Mass relocations of trueborn to the West Virginia fortress. Deployments of warrior groups to population centers.”

“Whoa, whoa,” I say, holding up my hands. “What does all that mean?”