I roll onto my back. The ceiling of the train car is dirty, stained a variety of colors. I stare at a dark blue spot directly above my head for so long, I finally drift off to sleep. I dream, which I often do. But this one is different, more of a nightmare than a vision.

I’m in West Virginia, back in the prison cell. Only this time, it is empty and brightly lit from above. The spherical cage that held Sam is now empty. The only indication he was ever there is a pool of still-wet blood on the floor. I walk into the middle of the cell, look around frantically and try to scream his name, but as soon as I open my mouth the bright lights from above are sucked into my throat, stealing my breath, choking me. I fall to my hands and knees, trying to get some air.

Still gasping, I look up. Now I am in a large arena, with thousands of Mogadorians going wild in the stands. They chant and throw things down at me while fights break out among them. The floor is a shiny black slab of rock. I rise from all fours shakily. When I take one step forward, the ground behind me falls away, leaving only a black abyss. Above me is a giant hole and through this hole I see a group of clouds moving across a blue sky. It takes me a moment to realize where I am – inside the peak of a mountain.

‘Four!’ It’s Nine’s voice. Nine! I’m not alone. I look around and try to yell back, but my throat is still clogged. A beam of light escapes my mouth. Instinctively, I twist around and try to aim the light until it finally lands on Nine. He’s on the other side of the arena, but something is blocking my view of him. It’s Sam. He’s hanging between us, his wrists in shackles. Agent Purdy and Special Agent Walker stand below him, their Mogadorian cannons aimed at Sam’s chest. I don’t hesitate. I run to my best friend, the rock falling away behind me with every step I take. The roar of the crowd escalates until it’s absolutely deafening.

When I’ve almost reached them, the black rock where the agents stand drops away, and they fall with it.

‘Help! Help me, please, help me,’ Sam yells, his body twisting, trying to break free from the shackles.

I try using my telekinesis to free him, but it doesn’t work. I try to use my Lumen, but my palms remain dark. My Legacies are failing me.

‘Bring the rest, John,’ Sam says to me. ‘Bring them all.’

His voice sounds strange, like it’s not his. It’s almost like someone – or something – evil is speaking through him.